Battlestar Hermes 1: Salvage
by The Wilky Bar Kid
Summary: Supply issues for the military and civilians aboard Hermes, one of the last surviving Battlestars, force the crew to return to the 12 colonies to resupply but what trap is Cavil setting for them?
1. Prologue Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

**In the beginning there was man...**

**Then man made the Cylons and blessed them with the very spirit of man. The Cylons lived as slaves to the people of the twelve colonies until one day they rose up against their masters. After a bloody and brutal conflict the 'children' of humanity left to find a world of their own. A place they could call home.**

**Fourty years later they returned to the colonies and completed the revenge their ancestors had sought...**

* * *

**THE BATTLESTAR HERMES**

**The Battlestar Hermes departed Picon five days before the attack on the colonies. Three days later the ship suffered a terrible explosion that damaged the ship's computer core. Rebuilding the navigational computer the crew stumbled upon the shocking discovery that a virus had been embedded in their systems, one that could render their ships useless. Unable to contact the Colonial fleet the Hermes tried desperately to return to the colonies to warn them but they arrived too late.**

**After fighting with the Cylon fleet over Picon the crew knew that their homeworlds were doomed and went on the run from the Cylons eventually finding three civilian ships that had been left for dead by the crew of the Battlestar Pegasus. They were the survivors of the Scylla's fleet. With their own ships now useless the three thousand survivors crammed aboard the Hermes and the ship became part Battlestar/part refugee camp. Supplies are now a real issue as the ship continues to fight for survival in the depths of space...**

* * *

17 DAYS SINCE THE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

The Raptor seemed to glide effortlessly out from the Hermes port hangar pod and into the dark of space. Lt Chloe Burmeister leaned over in the cockpit to look at the ship that for the foreseeable future was going to be her home. The Hermes still bore the scars from the battle above Picon and yet somehow managed to maintain an air of strength and power even in these dark times for despite almost a month of repeated attacks by the Cylons the Hermes was still alive.

Burmeister sat up front in the cockpit of the Raptor with Lt. Bolenko, callsign 'Stinger'. 'Stinger' was piloting while Burmeister monitored the DRADIS, familiar territory seeing how she was the Hermes' tactical officer. She watched as 'Stinger' worked the control panel readying the little ship for its faster-than-light jump.

"FTL is green" said 'Stinger', his strong Scorpion accent clear to all.

"Very good" said Burmeister who immediately clicked the transmit button on the comm panel in front of her. "Hermes this is Raptor zero-seven. All is green. Repeat all is green."

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Commander Artimus Bowman watched the progress of the Raptor on the DRADIS screen hanging from the ceiling of CIC. A small blue dot moved slowly away from the centre of the screen with 'R07' hovering over it portraying the small vessel. The XO, Colonel Caleb Dytto, stood by his side with his eyes darting back and fore from the DARDIS screen to Bomwan and then back again. From the first day that Bowman had taken command of Hermes there had been hostility between him and Dytto. After serving for four years as XO prior to Bowman's arrival he had expected to get command of Hermes when the previous Commander stood down but at the last minute Bowman was given the position and Dytto had been bitter of that fact ever since.

"Let me have it" said Bowman to the Petty Officer Durrand manning the comm station.

"Your on sir" replied the young man. Bowman picked up the small handset from the operations table and held it to the side of his face.

"Raptor zero-seven this is Hermes-Actual. Remember this is a salvage mission only. If there's the slightest hint of trouble I want you out of there. We'll just do our shopping else where."

"Understood Actual" replied Burmeister's voice.

"Raptor zero-seven" said Bowman. "Cleared to proceed!"

"Roger Hermes, Raptor zero-seven out."

Bowman put down the handset and looked up on the screen as the dot suddenly disappeared.

"They're away!" said Dytto who turned to Bowman. "You really think that there's anything worth a damn on that old hulk?"

"We have to try" said Bowman whose eyes hadn't left the screen in front of him. "When it was just us we had enough supplies on board for six months. Now we have over three thousand civilians cramming into every tiny space we can find."

"And that brings me onto another matter" said Dytto. "Where do you plan to put all this stuff?"

"We'll find space when we know how much we have to deal with." Bowman's voice was low and deliberately subdued to keep it between him and Dytto but had an air of enforcing his authority on his executive officer.

"I see," sighed Dytto as his head drooped in annoyance which was clearly evident to the crew around them.

"Mr Dytto!" Bowman suddenly roared for all to hear. "We maybe expecting some rather bulky crates to be delivered soon. Please make arrangements for their storage!" Although he said the word 'please' there were no options being made available to Dytto who bit his tongue rather than protest further. Dytto stood to attention before turning away and walking out without acknowledging the command verbally. The whole CIC was silent as he left waiting for Bowman to reprimand his executive officer for this obvious display of insolence but Bowman did nothing preferring to wait until later when they were alone. Insolent or not he was still the executive officer and while he had wanted to get rid of him before the colonies were destroyed to do so now would have a major effect on the crew not because they liked him but it would be yet another major change and everywhere there was a feeling that one more blow would break them.


	2. Chapter 2

TRANSPORT SHIP HELLENIC TRAVELLER

Adrift in space, the wreck of the Hellenic Traveller littered the region with debris that had been ripped from the ship when it was destroyed. It was about half the length of the Hermes and the main section was originally flanked by six rather large circular cargo pods. Three had been destroyed and had heavy scorching along the exterior of the hull.

Suddenly there was a brilliant flash as the Raptor completed its FTL jump and began to glide towards it. Under peacetime circumstances the Raptor would have jumped in a lot further from the wreck than this but this was wartime and the close proximity jump was necessary to fool any DRADIS scanners in the area into thinking that the Raptor was just another piece of debris.

"Jump completed" reported 'Stinger' as he powered down the FTL drive.

"Beginning low frequency DRADIS scans" said Burmeister. "We seem to have jumped in without attracting attention so lets not go shouting that we are here shall we? So far so good. Just scattered debris and the main hulk. Hopefully if anyone's out there then that's all they'll be seeing. Alright! Everybody suit up!"

The two civilians in the rear picked up their helmets and placed them over their heads. The two of them looked equally apprehensive as they struggled with screwing their helmets onto their suits. The civilian sitting behind 'Stinger' was a young man in his early twenties named Lavour. His face shone with nervous perspiration as he seemed to fight to get his helmet on properly. The second civilian, a woman about the same age as Lavour, put on her helmet as if it were second nature and then began to help Lavour with his. With Lavour's helmet on tight he vaguely smiled a nervous thanks to her.

"You look like you've done that before?" said Burmeister to her over the short range personal wireless that allowed them to talk when suited up. "What was your name again?"

"Melissa" she replied before remembering that in the military you rarely addressed anyone by their given name. "Saunders. Melissa Saunders. And yea I have. I used to go space walking from the Aran Space Station above Caprica every summer."

"I see" said Burmeister feigning interest. Burmeister's question was the first time that Melissa had looked out at the wreck floating nearby.

"Oh my Gods!" she gasped gazing out at the carnage. "Is that it?"

"Yep. That's it" said Burmeister as if Melissa were asking is that your pen? "One of our Raptors stumbled across it on a scouting mission about seven hours ago. Much of the superstructure is still intact so we maybe able to salvage some food or possibly even some parts if they're compatible with our own systems."

"What happened to it?" asked Lavour naively.

"Somebody fell asleep with a cigarette in their hand!" snapped Burmeister cynically. "Cylons blew it the frak up!"

"They're not still around are they?" asked Lavour his voice almost bordering on total panic. "The Cylons I mean?"

"Why?" Burmeister asked annoyed. "Forgot to brush your teeth?"

Lavour ignored her remarks, his eyes transfixed on the ship ahead. Melissa felt uneasy but it was not the thought of Cylons that worried her. Burmeister's attitude gave the whole Raptor a distinctly cold feeling which served to magnify her general feeling of misgivings about the military. Everyone had heard about what had happened on the Scylla the day the Battlestar Pegasus appeared and ransacked the ships of anything useful, effectively leaving them to die. If the Hermes hadn't appeared when it did then there was no telling what would have happened. But even then the people aboard those surviving ships were fearful of what life would be like aboard the Battlestar now that their homeworlds were destroyed.

"We're coming up on the hangar bay" said 'Stinger' who activated the Raptor's powerful searchlight. The beam of light slid across the hulk until they rested on the hangar bay doors. Unfortunately they were a tangled mess of debris and thus offered no hope of gaining entry to the derelict vessel.

"Frak!" said Burmeister. "Looks like we're going to have to find our own way in. There's no way we're getting a Raptor through there!"

The Raptor slipped over the hull of the ship with its searchlight scanning for a place they could enter. Suddenly the light glanced over a large gaping hole in one of the surviving cargo holds.

"There!" said Burmeister. "Looks like an internal secondary explosion must have ripped that hole. The metal is warped outwards."

"Hmm! I think I can put us through there but its going to be tight! Sure you don't just want to haul it out?" asked 'Stinger'.

"Well if we put the Raptor inside then it decreases our chances of detection while we load up" explained Burmeister.

"Ok" said 'Stinger'. "Here we go."

The Raptor moved forward under the power of its thrusters, slowly approaching the hole. The cockpit began to ring with a proximity alarm that Burmeister quickly silenced. The searchlight continued to sway back and forth to help 'Stinger' judge the distance on either side of the Raptor as it entered the carcass. The interior was darkened black from the devastation that had taken place. Fortunately the explosion had ripped a hole through a wall into an adjacent corridor thus allowing the Raptor crew to gain access to the rest of the ship without having to cut their way through thus saving precious time.

"Perfect!" said Burmeister as the Raptor came to rest on a relatively clear bit of the deck. 'Stinger' engaged the magnetic landing skids and like a parasite the Raptor clung to the deck. 'Stinger' powered down the engines and the Raptor came to rest.

"Okay" said Burmeister turning to the rest of her team. "Listen up. We are going to make our way to the cargo hold and assess what they were carrying. Now we can only take crates that we can man handle and fit in here okay? Anything bigger and we report it to Hermes for a future mission. Now the crates will have a tag on the side specifying what's inside. If it's organic, which is what we're looking for then, it will have a green tag on the side. These are the ones that will most likely contain food stuffs. They have priority on this run. Now we are due back to Hermes in three hours. Let me make one thing clear. We have to be back by then or Hermes will make the assumption we're dead and they WILL move on! There will be no rescue. No point wasting the lives. Now we stay together and no one goes wandering off without an I-SAY-SO. Any questions?" The three others stayed silent. "Alright then. 'Stinger!' Begin decompression!"

'Stinger' began to release the oxygen from the cabin now that they were all inside their suits. Within a few moments the Raptor was drained of oxygen and the door opened into the gutted spacecraft. Burmeister took the lead and stood in the door to the Raptor staring out into the Hellenic Traveller cargo hold, her hand held torch shining a brilliant beam of light out into the darkness. It cast a light out toward the corridor and she turned to the others and said "Ok let's go! Stay close and keep your eye on each other!"

The three of them made their way out of the hatch and kicked their way toward the corridor while 'Stinger' stayed with the Raptor. Both Burmeister and Melissa managed their way through the gravity-less wreck quite comfortably but Lavour struggled. His arms and legs waved around in a similar fashion to a man drowning in the sea. After several hundred yards, with Burmeister leading, Lavour was getting worse and after floating into Melissa for the third time she turned and grabbed hold of him. His face was in a state of panic and his breathing rapid.

"Okay" she said. "Look at me! You're overcompensating. Just relax. Try not to move about so much!"

"O-Okay!" he replied almost out of breath. Burmeister just watched as Melissa wrestled with controlling Levour. Once they were ready they continued toward one of the surviving cargo modules and soon found themselves inside No.3. With the artificial gravity gone the crates floated around the immense cargo module.

"Okay" said Burmeister. "Remember we are looking for green labels."

The three of them began their search, each of them knowing how important this mission was. It was painstaking work and after 25 minutes they had produced no results. Every other coloured label could be found except green. Suddenly, however, Levour began to call out at the top of his voice even though the wireless in each suit had meant that no matter how far away they were they could hear each other.

"Gods!" screamed Burmeister. "We can hear you!"

"Sorry" said Levour "but I found one!"

Melissa and Burmeister both moved toward Levour's position. Sure enough he had found a cargo container with a green label. It was quite a large box that was two metres long and a metre wide and high. Burmeister examined it thoroughly. It was intact.

"Alright…Alright" said Burmeister. "This looks good. It's still sealed up so whatever is inside should still be good. Ok let's get it back to the Raptor."

The three of them floated the container back toward the Raptor. Several times it got away from them and hit the sides of the charred corridors. After several minutes the three of them and the container finally made it back to the Raptor. Despite its size they managed to squeeze it inside their small vessel but it had cost them. The effort had used up quite a hefty portion of their oxygen supply. After checking Levours and Melissa's oxygen supply and then comparing them to her own Burmeister turned to face her team.

"Okay" she said. "We got a problem. I don't think our oxygen supply will last us another trip so we're going to take what we got and be on our way." She closed the hatch to the Raptor and made her way back to the cockpit. "'Stinger!' Begin recompression and take us…Home." She had called Hermes 'Home' several times before but this was the first time she really meant it and it caught her completely off guard. She felt her chin ripple a little as her mind momentarily fathomed her predicament before she quickly put it to the back of her thoughts. "Let's get the frak off this ghost ship!"

"Yes ma'am!" said 'Stinger' as he reignited the engines. "The Raptor began to come alive again and pulled away from the hulk. After the environmental controls read that it was safe to do so they took off their helmets.

"Ah that's better" said Levours in a tone of genuine gratitude. He looked down at the container they had salvaged. "What do you think is in there?" he said to Melissa sitting opposite him.

"I don't know" she replied truthfully.

The Raptor began to move out of the hulk and back into the debris field.

"I don't know about you guys" said 'Stinger' joyfully as he worked the controls "But I could really go for some steak right about now. Maybe a bit of garnish? Some potatoes. Perhaps even a dollup of gr-. Frak!"

As the Raptor left the ship a Cylon Raider darted past the cockpit just a few yards away!

"Oh my Gods!" screamed Levours. "Those are fraking Cylons! We're dead!"

"Shut up!" screamed Burmeister. "'Stinger' spool up the FTL!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" screamed 'Stinger' working the controls.

"Oh Gods!" gasped Melissa looking ahead as two Raiders were now coming towards them. Even in the low light of space Burmeister could see the weapon bay doors opening on the lead Raider.

"'Stinger!'" wailed Burmeister.

"Just fifteen seconds!" yelled 'Stinger'.

Suddenly two missiles appeared underneath the lead Raider and started hurtling towards them.

"'Stinger!'"

"Just a few more seconds!"

Levours was cowering in the back of the Raptor. He held his hands together and began to chant "Lords of Kobol! Hear my prayer! Please deliver us from this evil?" He repeated this again and again as Burmeister and 'Stinger' watched the FTL gauge rising until finally it reached the green mark.

"That's it! Get us the frak out of here!" yelled Burmeister.

In an instant the Raptor disappeared in a flash. The missiles darted past the empty space left by it and exploded on the hull of the wreck with a brilliant white flash.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK

The Raptor rested on the hangar deck as the deckhands gathered around it to help unload whatever was inside. After the crate was removed from the Raptor Levours seemed to fall out of the doorway and dropped to his knees on the deck thanking the Gods for having spared them.

The deckhands pulled the box aside and began to work at getting it open. Burmeister met Melissa on the hangar deck just a few moments after they landed. They both looked at the pitiful sight of Levours kneeling next to the Raptor.

"You did good out there" said Burmeister to Melissa. "Better than that crap!" she then said signalling to Levours. Burmeister went away towards the crate as it was suddenly pryed open by the deckgang. There was a loud shriek from a female deckhand named Gorseinon. Bowman had just arrived on the deck and quickly made his way towards the container as the commotion increased.

"Get out of the way! Make a hole!" he ordered. The deckhands cleared a path for Bowman, some of them with the look of horror on their faces and when he reached the container he peered in. It didn't take him long to figure out what was causing the commotion. Inside was a blond woman in a red dress. Her eyes were wide open and in the middle of her forehead was a bullet hole. "Oh Gods!" he gasped. The body had been perfectly preserved in the container that was designed to store organic material for long journeys in space.

Burmeister stood beside him and peered in at the body. Just a few weeks ago this sight would have horrified her but now it was just another body.

"Ooh!" she said. "Well that was a waste of time. Can't eat that!" The joke failed to raise even a smirk from anyone including herself. "What do you think sir? Maybe the crew killed her and put her in this box to hide her?"

"Maybe?" said Bowman.

Bowman felt a little bit guilty. The truth was that he was devastated there were no supplies inside. The fact that this was once a life held no substance to him because millions had died in the passed few weeks and now the most important thing was survival. The discovery of this body symbolised the reality that death was lingering on this ship either from the Cylons or from starvation.

But what none of them knew yet was that they were looking down at the dead face of their enemy. For the body in the container was a Cylon. A Number Six.


	3. Chapter 3

TWO DAYS LATER

Melissa Saunders awoke from a seemingly restless sleep. Her eyes strained in the dim light of the bunk which was now her home. She pulled back the curtain and she winced as the dim light became a painful bright one. She occupied one bunk in the room which had now become a refugee shelter. There were a dozen bunks covering three walls and a small table in the middle. Some of the bunks had their curtains closed while others were opened with two or three people huddled inside. Families had to share! Sitting beside the table was a small girl scraping the bottom of the bowl in her hand for the very last bit of porridge that lay in it before she lifted it up and licked the inside. Nothing was to be wasted and everyone was hungry. The supply situation was getting desperate.

Once she was sure that she had eaten the last bit the small girl who Melissa figured to be about eight years old looked up at her with pitiful eyes. The girls face was darkened with smudged dirt from where her mother had tried to clean it with a dry rag since no water could be spared simply to clean her face.

Melissa could feel her heart wanting to break inside at the sight of the child but her toughening up to their predicament had meant that she had developed a hard shell around it and compared to what she had already seen the past few weeks it was going to take a lot to crack it. She jumped down from her bunk before pulling the curtains back across her own private dwelling before walking out of the room. She hadn't changed out of the grey coveralls that had been issued to her when she agreed to start training as Raptor mechanic five days ago. The truth was they were still the cleanest clothes she had left.

The Marine Barrack section of the ship was designed to house up to 1500 Marines for a short period of time but was now home to nearly double that number of refugees. The whole section of the ship now began to resemble a slum as the people tried their best to make do. Walking through the 'slum' Melissa found herself constantly bumping into the mass of people crowding the corridors. She hated this part of the ship so much and she was glad to clear it into the military section of the Battlestar. Each hatch leaving the slum was guarded by two Marines to prevent the civilians from rushing through to other parts of the ship to steal supplies. Melissa showed her ID to them and the guards stood aside to allow her to pass.

As she entered the military section of the ship the hatch closed behind her. With the sound of the clunk of the door closing she now found herself in relative calm. She was no longer squashed into the 'slum' but was now in a rather wide and clean corridor occupied by only a few passing crewmen. She made her way to the port hangar deck to resume her training as a Raptor mechanic. Everyday was now the same. This routine had come to occupy her life and the lives of everyone on board. While the military crew were used to such routine it was an angry and frightening reality for the civilians. Melissa's job on the hangar deck was always the same. It involved maintenance on the computer software of the Raptors aboard Hermes. Everyday she would run diagnostics of all the major systems and confirm they were in perfect working order.

Today she was working on Raptor One-Nine. She sat in the rear compartment of the small vessel and plugged in her diagnostic machine and began her tedious work. As she worked robotically on the Raptor her mind tended to wander, despite her efforts not to, back to her life on Caprica.

* * *

CAPRICA  
34 DAYS EARLIER

Melissa woke from an enormously deep sleep. She turned over in her large king size bed and stared groggily at her alarm clock. It was already 08:30am and she rose quickly knowing that her parents were already awake. As she quickly dressed she could already smell the bacon and eggs that her mother was cooking downstairs.

Melissa's parent's house sat on the bank of a beautiful lake just a few miles west from Caprica City. It was a picturesque place with beautiful countryside on all sides and hardly an artificial noise for miles. Their kitchen had a spacious conservatory built onto it and the Saunders family regularly ate their meals in full view of the crystal-like lake outside.

As Melissa thundered down the stairs in her dressing gown and slippers she was greeted by the ever familiar sight of her father sitting at the table with a copy of the daily newspaper folded in his hands. He always read the financial section every morning. Arthur Saunders was on the board of directors at one of the biggest banks in the twelve colonies and as such it was imperative for him to keep up with the latest news.

The sound of his twenty year old daughter running down the stairs like an excited thirteen year old caused him to take his gaze from the paper and look disapprovingly at her.

"I see your up!" he said with a cursing tone. She quickly run round the table and kissed him lovingly on the forehead before sitting down next to him.

"Morning daddy," she said with a chirpy smile to which Arthur stood no chance of maintaining his ice cold veneer and his face melted into a faint smile as he returned to his newspaper.

Her mother, Louise, was finishing making a cup of coffee for the three of them to drink while the food cooked. She passed around the rather hefty mugs of coffee before she too joined them at the table sitting beside her daughter.

"What time does your transport leave?" Louise asked her daughter who was helping herself to some bacon from the table.

"Tonight" she replied. "About half past nine from Caprica City Spaceport."

"About!" grumbled her father. "Excellent attitude for a young lady to have. Should be more precise. What happens if it's actually ABOUT nine o'clock exactly? Hmm?"

Melissa and her mum both laughed at Arthur who chose to ignore their sniggers. It was no secret that Arthur was not too pleased that his daughter was going to Tauron on her own and his little snipe at her timekeeping was just another way to demonstrate his dissatisfaction. He didn't want to believe that his daughter was now a young woman.

"So have you finished packing?" asked Louise.

"Yes" replied Melissa. "I'm going to get a taxi to the spaceport for seven."

"That Baltar is at it again!" grumbled Arthur interrupting his wife and daughter.

"Sorry dear?" asked Louise.

"That Gius Baltar! You know him! He lives on the other side of the lake. He's campaigning for a lift on the AI ban again" explained Arthur. "He won't be getting any financial support from my bank I can promise you that. I don't care how chummy he is with Adar."

"You know Dad" said Melissa. "Gius…Uh I mean Mr Baltar." Arthur eyed his daughter suspiciously as she continued. "He says that he doesn't want a total lift on the ban just a moderate one so we can improve the quality of life we have instead of living in the past."

"Since when do you see Dr Baltar?" he asked.

"I've seen him around town a few times" she explained with a cheeky smirk aimed at her mother who returned the signal.

"You stay away from him!" said Arthur. "He's a user! And he's just what's wrong with this generation." Both Louise and Melissa silently sighed knowing what was coming next. "People today who don't remember the war or weren't born when it was going on don't realise just what those things did. There was no such thing as a civilian to them they just killed mercilessly. They were created to make life easier on the colonies and that's what made us soft and vulnerable. They were everywhere just waiting for their moment to strike. This Baltar! He's on about a moderate removal of restrictions. Sure it's moderate now. And then the next lift will be a little more moderate. And the next! And the next! Before you know it we've got a whole new breed of Cylons in every corner of society and the same thing will happen all over again!"

* * *

PRESENT DAY  
RAPTOR ONE-NINE  
BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK

The diagnostic machine beeped its completion. Melissa was rudely brought out of her daydream that recalled the last morning she saw her parents alive. She disconnected the portable device from the Raptors computer and began to pack up when a man appeared in the hatch wearing a Viper pilot's uniform. She recognised him as the Hermes's CAG. He was in command of the whole air group. Everyone called him by his Callsign - Griffon. As he stood there she realised that she didn't know his real name.

"Excuse me" he said in a rather strong and masculine tone. "I'm looking for a Melissa Saunders. Is that you?"

"Yes…Sir," she stumbled perplexed at why such an important person wanted to speak with a 'civvy' like her.

"Ah excellent" he said. "I'd like to have a word with you. Are you finished?"

"Yes sir!" she replied more confidently.

"Good" he said looking around the interior of the Raptor. "This is as good a place as any. Take a seat up front with me would you please?"

The two of them sat in the front seats of the Raptor. Melissa sat on the right while he sat on the left.

"Sir is there a problem?" she asked but Griffon seemed to ignore her question.

"Y'know" he said fondly looking at the cockpit controls. "My first tour was as a Raptor pilot. Oh I wanted to fly Vipers of course like everyone else but I still have a certain love of these little ships." Melissa just stared at him blankly as he continued. "I've read the report from Lt Burmeister regarding the salvage mission to the Hellenic Traveller. She gives you quite a lot of praise. Seems you remained quite calm despite it all kicking off."

"Thank you" she said really quite perplexed. Her own evaluation of her performance was not so favourable. She had never felt quite so vulnerable as she had that day.

"I'm here to offer you the chance to enlist Miss Saunders" said Griffon. "As I'm sure you know we have taken casualties over the past month and we're having to recruit replacements from the civilians to replace those losses. I think you might be what we're looking for to train as aircrew. Maybe even on one of these or our tankers? I know it's dangerous work but what's safe anymore? One thing to consider though is that it will get you out of the slum. Get you a proper bunk and food."

Melissa's mind cast back to waking up every morning and seeing the image of the little girl scraping the bowl for food. She thought about it for a few minutes and soon came to realise that for the first time since the start of the war she was thinking about the long term rather than just what was immediately infront of her. Her mind came to the unhappy conclusion that as long as she was on this ship the chances were that eventually the Cylons would destroy it and everyone on it, herself included. As she came to the realisation that her life will one day be over she looked at the life she had now and it dawned on her that she may as well try to make the best of life now while it was still hers and she grudgingly accepted.

Later that day she returned to the slum. As she cleaned out her few possessions from her bunk she could feel everyone's eyes watching her in desperate disgust. She felt some guilt from her heart but her mind had told her that from now on the only person that mattered was herself. Walking silently out of the room she tried desperately not to look at any of them as if they were simply cattle in a field she was walking past.

Stepping through the hatch from the slum for what she knew was the last time she suddenly felt clean not to have to be in their midst ever again. In another life she would have been disgusted with herself. The sad truth now was that she just didn't care.


	4. Chapter 4

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE

"Things are getting desperate. You know that!"

Bowman didn't need to hear the words of his Executive Officer. He knew the situation all to well. Bowman sat behind his desk as Dytto waited for an answer. Dytto sat on the chair on the opposite side of the desk looking as though Bowman were somehow to blame for their predicament or that he would have done better if he were in command. It was an arrogant glare that Bowman despised greatly.

"What are you planning on doing?" pushed Dytto. Bowman sat coolly in his chair as he began to remove his right boot as if Dytto wasn't even there.

"The new civilians" interjected Bowman. Dytto seemed to almost jump in surprise at Bowman's apparent ignorance of the situation that he was trying to bring to his attention. "The ones we drafted into flight duty."

"What about them?" winced Dytto.

"Have you co-ordinated with Griffon to come up with some sort of training syllabus?"

"Griffon knows what he's doing" said Dytto. "He can handle it."

"He can handle the flight part" said Bowman. "But i asked you to organise some sort of military induction training. Have you done that?"

Dytto gritted his teeth.

"Well..." stuttered Dytto struggling to find an answer.

"You haven't done it yet?" asked Bowman with an accusing glare. Dytto swallowed.

"Well i felt that the supply issue was the primary..."

"I didn't ask you what you felt you should commit your time to! I gave you an order and now im asking you if you have carried it out?" Bowman's words were sharp and angry and even Dytto felt the energy that was exploding in the room. He may have been able to get away with the odd snipe in front of the crew, something that was evident of a poor executive officer and even Dytto knew it, but now they were alone and out of the prying eyes of the rest of the crew. Here - the gloves came off. And Dytto knew that he was subordinate to Bowman. Here is where his courage departed him. "Have you refused my order?"

"No...Sir!" replied Dytto almost sheepishly.

"Then please carry out my instructions!" Bowman's words left no room for Dytto to manouver. He very slowly with a hint of reluctance stood up before his commanding officer and saluted. Bowman's eyes glared menacingly at him. Dytto waited for an acknowledging gesture from his commanding officer but there wasn't one. The seeming lack of respect that Bowman showed him served only to enrage Dytto but he kept the fire deep down to knidle for another time and place.

As Dytto left both men knew that one day the two men were going to have to settle their dislike...one way or another.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES SICKBAY

Melissa sat uneasily on the edge of the bed in sickbay in a medical gown. She didn't like doctors and she especially didn't like the Chief Medical Officer on board the Hermes - James Deveroux. There was just something about him she didn't like. His bedside manner made her feel like she was some sort of machine and that he was merely a mechanic or engineer rather than a healer. He had been giving her a physical examination for almost half an hour now and Melissa was itching to leave, she just couldn't bare to be around him. Then she finally heard the words she was hoping for.

"Well Miss Saunders" he said, his voice rough and croaky. "That's your examination complete and i'm happy to say that as far as the Colonial Fleet Medical Board I.E. _me _is concerned you are fit and healthy enough to be cleared for flight duty."

"Thank you Doctor" she said almost in a whisper.

"Your very welcome" he said smiling sleezily. For a moment she could have sworn that his eyes had glanced down momentarily at her breasts but she couldn't be sure so she decided not to mention it and just take the opportunity to leave as quickly as possible.

She got up off the bed and picked up her clothes off a chair as a nurse came along and guided her to a room for her to get changed back into her clothes. Melissa disappeared inside and the nurse turned back towards Devoroux. He was walking through to the morgue that was in the adjacent room. The young nurse, a Caprican named Jessie Taylor, watched as he walked in silence and thought that he seemed to be spending quite a bit of time in there ever since they had brought back that body from the derelict ship two days ago. Lost in thought she failed to see Melissa reappear from the room causing the nurse to jump.

"Oh I'm sorry" said Melissa.

"No it's my fault" chuckled the nurse. "I was a million miles away. Well...perhaps just a few yards." Melissa looked at her with a questioning glare that caught Jessie's eye. She looked back at the door to the morgue for a minute pondering whether she should continue or not after all it wasn't proper protocol to gossip about your chief doctor. Reluctantly she gave into temptation. "I just wonder what he does in there?"

"What do you mean?" asked Melissa. Jessie looked around to see if anyone was in earshot before continuing.

"Well" said Jessie. "You know the body they brought back from that ship? The...uh...The Hellenic Traveller?"

"Yea" replied Melissa. "I was on that mission."

"Oh! Well, ever since they brought it back he seems to have spent a lot of time in there with it_. Alone_!"

"Oh Gods!" gasped Melissa at the thought of just what he might have been doing in there with a woman's dead body.

"Yea! One of the other nurses told me that they heard him talking to it one night."

"What was he saying?" asked Melissa.

"She couldn't make it out. Anyway...I've said too much. Please don't repeat what i said?" pleaded Jessie.

"O-Oh of course not!" she replied. "I have to go."

Melissa left sickbay and Jessie continued with her duties leaving Deveroux in the morgue with the body of the blonde woman from the Hellenic Traveller. Almost certainly most people would regard Deveroux's behaviour as strange. But what no one aboard Hermes could have possibly known was that Deveroux was also known by another name to certain other indviduals quite possibly even the dead woman in a red dress whom he was spending so much time with. She wouldn't have called him Deveroux. She would have called him Brother Cavil.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE

Bowman chuckled to himself quietly at the thought that had come into his mind shortly after his meeting with Dytto.

"We need to go shopping!" he said uttering the thought that had amused him. "Just nip down to the local store and pick up enough ready-to-eat meals for five thousand people." He leaned back in his chair still amused at the thought that had distracted him momentarily from the seriousness of the situation the people aboard Hermes found themselves in. As he rubbed the smile from his face an even crazier thought came into his head. The thought soon emerged from his lips into the air. "Why not?"

* * *

**(AN - I am aware that the 'Simon' model Cylons are generally seen as the medical Cylons and not the Cavits but all will be revealed later in the story)**


	5. Chapter 5

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE  
23 DAYS AFTER DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

Bowman looked around the Operations Desk that dominated the centre of the CIC at the officers assembled around it. Lt. Chloe Burmeister stood immediately adjacent to him. He couldn't help but notice that the youth in her eyes that he once envied before the war had now drained away. What was left was a cold and calculating soldier perfect for their situation. She knew what had be done and how to do it. She was a prized asset to Bowman but even he felt pity for the price she had to pay to become this new weapon.

Standing next to Burmeister as he always did was Caleb Dytto. Dytto was nearly the same age as Bowman but had a much older complexion. He was a career officer through and through and it was a bitter blow to him when just over a year earlier after serving as Executive Officer of the Hermes for four years Bowman was given command of the Battlestar over him. It was the start of a cold and bitter relationship between him and Bowman and as a result he didn't truly understand his relationship with the much younger Burmeister. He knew it was not romantic and that it had something to do with Burmeister's father. He had come to the conclusion that he was a kind of uncle figure to her.

To the right of him was the Hermes's CAG Alex 'Griffon' Adonia. Bowman liked 'Griffon' a lot. He reminded him of the officer he used to be aboard the Battlestar Valkyrie when he was CAG of that air group. He eventually replaced Colonol Saul Tigh as Executive Officer of that particular Battlestar when he and Adama transferred to the Galactica. Griffon was a professional and skilled Viper pilot and had an excellent relationship with his subordinates.

Sitting out of the way and to the left was Dr James Deveroux. This man was a total mystery to Bowman. All he knew was that he was a retired MD who was travelling on one of the civilian ships they had encountered left stranded by the Pegasus. He had kept his former profession from the crew of the Pegasus somehow and yet he revealed himself to the Hermes crew when they were rescued? Maybe he realised that Hermes wasn't Pegasus and that here he would have a chance at survival? Whatever the truth the Hermes needed his skills since the ship's original Chief Medical Officer Dr. Farrah was killed in the battle above Picon Fleet Headquarters almost a month ago even if Deveroux's methods were a little old fashioned.

The small group Bowman had assembled were all unique but at this moment they each shared the same concerns about the briefing they had just been given by Bowman on his latest idea. There was open mouthed shock from all of them except for Deveroux who stood quietly waiting for the first response. As Bowman expected it was Dytto who first voiced his opinion. Dytto seemed to take pride in the fact that he wasn't afraid to voice his opinions publicly.

"You want to go shopping?" he said, his tone one of total disbelief.

"Thats the general idea yes" said Bowman coolly.

Bowman's plan was to have a Raptor return to the nearest colony, Scorpia, and begin scouting for supplies. The places he had in mind were military bases and depots that may have survived the initial attack or food warehouses and even supermarkets away from the nuke'd cities. Anywhere where food may have been stored. He reasoned, after all, that the Cylons are machines and would surely have no purpose for food?

"You'd be clutching at an awfully thin straw" added Dytto. "The chances of us finding enough supplies for close to five thousand people are slim at best and even if we do its only a temporary solution. Once we have consumed that we'd have to go back for more."

"It would be risky!" said Burmeister more optimistically looking over the details of the plan. "There's always a risk when you emerge from a jump into an atmosphere."

"Risk!" gasped Dytto. "It's almost suicidal! If your calculations are off even slightly you could end up inside a frakking mountain!"

"But it is possible!" said 'Griffon'. "It would be the best way to avoid the Cylon Dradis. They're going to be looking for spacecraft jumping into orbit not into the stratosphere. We'd be effectively hoodwinking them."

"It's nine jumps for Hermes to make it into range for the Raptor's to make it to Scorpia themselves" said Burmeister. "And every jump back to the colonies increases the risk of detection and attack. We've only just recently given them the slip. If they catch onto us again..."

"Game over" interjected 'Griffon'. There was a pause as each one of them grasped the gravity of what Bowman was proposing. Bowman glanced at each of their faces. Having known them for a year he could read the fear on the faces of 'Griffon', Burmeister and even Dytto. Who wouldn't be afraid at the prospect of deliberately heading back towards the Cylon fleet? Only Deveroux remained silent and unreadable to him. Bowman could see his beady eyes glancing from person to person.

"We need to get into perspective here" announced Bowman. "We are fast approaching the end of our tether. We left Picon on a two week training mission and now we are on extended war duties with no hope of replenishment from our fleet and an additional three thousand civilians to care for. And as i'm sure you're all aware there is no hope for surrendering to the Cylons and we lack the resources to become self sufficient in the deep of space. The only option left to us is to try and scavenge what we can even if it's enough for us to take a deep breath as we contemplate our next move."

Nobody, not even Dytto, spoke in protest. Sometimes the only course of action left open to us we chose to ignore because we don't want to accept that we have no choice but to face the devil. It is a sobering experience for all when fate reveals itself to us. Everyone at the briefing silently acknowledged their grudging acceptance.

Deveroux looked down at the gold watch on his wrist and saw that it was approaching 1525hrs. The end of his lips curled momentarily before his gaze returned to the senior officers of the mighty Battlestar Hermes gathered around the Operations Desk.

* * *

CELESTIAL BODY #32156

Sitting silently in the depths of space is a rogue moon that sits alone in the darkness not being a slave to any planet or star's gravity. It has no atmosphere and when light does eventually shine onto its surface it reveals a dull grey powdery wasteland littered with craters. Some are only the size of a small coin. Others are several miles in diameter. Except for the occasional passing ship this rogue moon goes largely unnoticed but today is different. Today it has visitors. Hiding in a large crater are two spacecraft only slightly larger than a Colonial Viper, their menacing black swooping wings are resting on the powdered surface and the main fuselage leads to a 'face' like design. Sitting motionless you could almost be forgiven for thinking that these were statues carved out into the landscape.

Suddenly without any prior warning a shutter opens up on the 'face' as the two parasites to this moon recieve a faint signal. After recieving and analysing the signal a small red light runs back and fore the space revealed by the shutter. It is the 'eye' of the Cylon Raider. The lead Raider sends out its own signal back to the source of the original that had awoken it from its slumber.

If you could speak the language of the Cylon Raider you would hear the words - "By your command!"

A cloud of grey powder burst out from underneath the two Raiders as they fired their vertical thrusters and left the surface of the moon. The two bat-like vessels soared effortlessly up into the eternal night sky before disappearing in a brilliant flash of light as they engaged their FTL drives.


	6. Chapter 6

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"New DRADIS contact bearing three-niner-six carom two-six-niner!" the Petty Officer covering Burmeister's station bellowed interrupting the meeting that was going on in the CIC. Burmeister darted over to the station and manhandled the Petty Officer away from the chair before replacing him. Almost automatically she worked the console to identify the contact. When she had her answer she turned back to the men assembled around the Operations Desk.

"Single Cylon Raider CBDR!" she announced. "Weapons range in six and a half minutes!"

Dytto picked up the handset from the Operations Desk and held it to his mouth before selecting the loudspeaker function that boomed his voice throughout the ship.

"Action Stations! Action Stations" he ordered, "Set condition one throughout the ship! Launch alert Vipers! This is not a drill! Repeat..." Dytto repeated the command for all to hear. Suddenly the CIC, the brain of the ship, burst into life as if Hermes were a startled animal that had just been a predator closing in on it.

Griffon immediately got hold of another handset and used it to contact the starboard hanger deck. He spoke with the launch control officer before turning back to Bowman.

"Alert Vipers are away! Interception in approxiamtely three minutes!" he reported.

"Gods dammit that's cutting it close!" grumbled Dytto. "If only we had the fuel to spare to put up an actual CAP."

"We just have to make do Colonel" said Bowman who then turned back to Burmeister.

"All hands reporting battle stations manned and ready sir" said Burmeister.

"Good!" acknowledged Bowman. "Any other tracks on DRADIS?"

"Negative sir" replied Burmeister. "He could be a single scout?"

"Uh..." stuttered Deveroux to Bowman. "I think i should head to sickbay and prepare for any casualties?"

"That's probably a good idea Doc'" said Bowman with a hint of aggrevation in his voice that Deveroux hadn't already done this.

Suddenly the crackled voice of a woman came over the speakers.

"Hermes this is Hot Top! Approaching the Raider now. He is still on course to the nest."

Bowman picked up his own handset and spoke into it. "Hot Top this is Hermes Actual, weapons free! Take it out of my sky!"

"Roger that Actual" replied Hot Top with glee.

* * *

The four Viper Mark VIIs closed in on the Raider. They were lead by a fiesty young Lieutenant named Jeannie 'Hot Top' Cairns so named for her mop of fiery red hair that matched her temper. Holding her course she monitored her Vipers on board DRADIS screen. It displayed less than thirty seconds to contact with the target.

"Ok, Slammer you're with me" she ordered to her wingman to the right. "Jo-Jo and Boxer your in the rear! Hold back and wait for us to box him in! Ten seconds to contact. Ready...Ready...Break now! Now! Now!"

The four Vipers broke their formation with Jo-Jo and Boxer and turning into a big right turn as Hot Top and Slammer pulled away from one another just as the Raider opened fire narrowly missing Slammer's Viper. The Raider darted between the two Vipers towards Jo-Jo and Boxer who were now coming out of their turn. Hot Top killed her engines and used the Vipers thrusters to pull the nose around. With the momentum she had attained she was now flying backwards at high speed and she opened up the throttles for all they were worth. She quickly slowed before accelerating forward in pursuit of the Raider that was still making a run for Hermes.

* * *

Deveroux stormed into sickbay passed the two duty nurses who were frantically preparing for wounded patients with not so much as a word to either of them. He went straight into his office and closed the door behind them much to the annoyance of nurse Taylor.

"Frakking coward!" she cursed silently.

Deveroux reached into a desk drawer and proceeded to throw its contents onto the table. He then placed the empty drawer onto his desk and took out a small knife he had concealed within his right sock. He put the point of the blade around the edge of the bottom of the drawer and lifted it up to reveal a secret compartment. Located in the secret compartment was a small round dome shaped device. He placed it on the table and pushed down on the centre of it. The roof of the device lifted open to reveal a green gel underneath. Deveroux placed his fingertips into the gel and it glowed in response.

* * *

Hot Top was in pursuit of the Raider countering its every move but not being quite able to get it into her crosshairs. Suddenly it veered up and the distance between it and Hot Top decreased dramatically.

"Frak me!" shrieked Hot Top as she threw the controls to the right to evade. She quickly composed herself and saw that the Raider was now heading away from Hermes towards Slammer. "Slammer he's doubling back to you! He's all yours!"

"Roger Hot Top he's going nowhere!"

* * *

Bowman, Dytto and Griffon watched on the DRADIS screens hanging from the ceiling over the Operations Desk in the CIC as the dogfight unfolded. The frantic communications between the four Vipers played out over the speakers.

"If he gets away he will report our position we will soon have a Baseship on us and we are in no state for that kind of fight" said Bowman. "Spool up the FTL and plot an escape jump!"

"Aye sir" replied Burmeister. "Plotting no-. New Contact! Another Raider just jumped in! Bearing four-niner-eight carom zero-one-zero."

"That's on the other side of the ship!" noted Griffon. "The first one was a decoy! Launching Blue Team!"

"No theres no time!" whailed Burmeister. "He's practically on top of us!"

"Port guns!" shot Bowman. "Automatic fire! Elevation plus ten degrees! Release safety's! Enagage!"

* * *

The guns on the port side of Hermes fired their shells relentlessly at the second Raider. With safetys off they were unrestricted at how close to the Hermes they could detonate. The risk here was that the proximity fused warheads may send shrapnel back to the the ship. This is what the safety's were meant to prevent. In this instance however there was simply no choice.

The second Raider made a headlong dash for the Hermes manouvering wildly through the fire it was taking from the mighty Battlestar. Its weapon bay opened to reveal a nuclear missile and the Raider prepared to fire.

* * *

"Radiological alarm!" screamed Burmester in the CIC. "The second Raider's got nukes on board! Missile imbound!"

* * *

Hot Top kept in pursuit of the first Raider since Slammer had messed up his attack and overshot by quite a distance. The Raider swung around and began to head back towards Hermes but Hot Top was too quick for him this time. She cut out her engines once more and continued to float forward as she brought her nose around with her thrusters until it was pointing ahead of the Raider. She squeezed the trigger and watched with satisfaction as the weaponsfire from her Viper tore the Raider to pieces.

"Splash one toaster!"

* * *

The missile left the second Raider amidst a truly frightening barrage of fire from the Hermes. It raced away from its launch platform and proceeded towards its intended target. The missile had barely left the launch rail when the Raider engaged its FTL and vanished in a brilliant white flash amidst the proximity detonations. With no Raider to aim at the guns now targeted the missile but the odds of a hit against such a small target at such high speed were slim.

* * *

"The Raider jumped away!" reported Burmeister. "Missile still on course! Impact in fifteen seconds!"

Bowman picked up the handset and moments later his voice boomed over the loudspeakers of the ship.

"All hands brace for impact!" he ordered. "All hands...Brace! Brace! Brace!"

The whole crew in the CIC prepared themselves for the violence that they were almost certainly about to experience. Burmeister silently prayed under her voice as she pushed herself up against her chair to limit the force of the impact on her body.

"Ten seconds!" she added. "Eight...Six..."

The whole CIC suddenly trembled around them but it was not nearly as ferocious as any of them were expecting but it was enough to cause a nervous young crewman to begin whailing in fear. The ship rocked for just a few moments before settling down. Bowman and Dytto looked at each other in open mouthed relief and confusion before turning to Burmeister for an explanation. She looked at her screen to confirm her theory before answering.

"Proximity detonantion!" she said before silently thanking the Gods for their deliverance yet again.

"We must have scored a hit?" suggested Dytto and the whole crew in CIC allowed themsleves a momentary pause for air. But Bowman realised that they had little time to waste. He surmised that the Raiders were scouts and the hit-and-run tactic was aimed at slowing the Hermes down long enough for reinforcements to arrive and finish them off.

"Alright call in our birds and prepare the ship to jump!" he ordered.

Griffon began organising recovery of the four alert Vipers while Burmeister entered the new jump coordinates into the FTL computer.

* * *

Deveroux closed up the dome shaped device and placed it back into the drawer before replacing the false bottom that concealed it. He then put all the contents back into it before finally returning it to the desk. He slumped into his chair and leaned back with a strong sense of satisfaction.

"Perfect!" he uttered to himself.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

CYLON OCCUPIED CAPRICA

Caprica was once the cultural capitol of the twelve colonies. It was a hub of art, literature and sophistication. It was a beautiful blue world known for its dramatic views and its beautiful almost aesthetically designed cities. To be Caprican was to realise the dream of human civilisation - easy living, comfort and sophistication. But now the sky is no longer blue. Dark grey and brown clouds carrying radioactive particles now litter the air. The nuclear bombardment the planet recieved almost a month ago has ravished its beauty and it now stands testament, like its eleven sisters, to the revenge of the Cylon.

Standing on a balcony of a now derelict building in Caprica City a man and a woman look down at what was once a children's playground. Now it was deserted and empty, the laughter of children now just another a ghost on this near dead world. The man was nearly six foot tall and in his thirties with his dark hair parting on the left side of his head. The woman was taller than the man with brilliant bright blonde hair. The two of them leaned against the wall looking down into the park rarely saying anything as they waited. It was not long before footsteps moved towards slowly but confidently towards them.

"I thought I'd find the two of you here" said another man who was now walking upto them. If anyone from the Battlestar Hermes were standing nearby they would have no doubt been shocked to see the face of their current Chief Medical Officer Dr James Deveroux. But this was not Deveroux. It was in fact another copy of the same Cylon model as Deveroux - a Number One also known as a Brother Cavil. The man and woman turned to face him as he stopped just a few feet away from them. "I bring good tidings from my compatriot aboard the Hermes."

"And lost a Raider in the process" interjected the blonde woman, a Number Six.

"Regrettable but necessary" said Cavil waving off the remark as if it were hardly relevent. "The pilot has successfully downloaded into a new Raider and will no doubt be itching for some pay back."

"Indeed" said the Number Five, sometimes referred to by the name Doral, who was standing next to Six. "So what have you learned?"

"Ah" said Cavil. "It seems that "_God_" has decided to smile his fortunes down on our little plan concerning the Hermes." Six winced at Cavil's disrespectful use of the word "God" but on this occasion chose to ignore it instead allowing him to continue. "Not only are the crew of the Hemes still blissfully unaware of our...evloution to human form despite the unfortunate discovery of our agent's body aboard the Hellenic Traveller but the mighty Battlestar is also returning to the colonies - namely to Scorpia."

"So soon?" said Five puzzled. "Your compatriot infiltrated the Hermes only a week and a half ago. How has he managed to earn their trust enough to convince them to return so soon?"

"Well..." said Cavil hesitantly. "He didn't have to. Bowman made the decision for us."

"Thats not what we anticipated" added Six. "Our analysis of his service record shows that Bowman is a by-the-numbers kind of officer. To gamble his ship and crew by returning to Scorpia is quite out of charactor."

"It was unforseen, yes" said Cavil. "But it's not a problem and my compatriot feels that we are now ready to implement phase two." The Five and the Six glanced at each other for a moment before returning their gaze to Cavil. Cavil clearly didn't like the feeling that he got from this reaction. "Is there a problem?"

"There has been some further concern regarding the plan" explained Six.

"Some feel it is us who is taking the gamble" interjected Five. "We endorsed the plan and ceased our attacks on the Hermes. We even allowed them to find the survivors of the civilian fleet left to die by the crew of the Battlestar Pegasus."

"Our concern" finished Six, "lays in the possibility that we may actually be encouraging what we are trying to prevent. We all agreed that Galactica's fleet was our primary concern. Pegasus has become little more than annoyance after their attack on our staging area and keeping its distance but if Hermes was to return to the colonies and successfully resupply..."

"Ah but your forgetting!" interrupted Cavil. "It was always our goal to have the Hermes resupply since she is of more use to us alive than dead."

"Still!" said Five. "By allowing a Battlestar back to the colonies is to risk lives and resources as well as our overall mission."

"I feel your concern is somewhat unwarranted" said Cavil. "Hermes is only half a Battlestar anymore. Its firepower has been considerably degraded thanks to our attacks and much of the ship is now a slum. It's almost literally bursting at the seams with refugees. It is in the condition we want it to be in to carry out our purpose for it. We agreed that out of Hermes and Pegasus it was Hermes that was best suited to our purpose thanks in no small part to the type of person we know Bowman to be."

"We have already understimated Bowman's intention to return to the colonies" added Five. "I wonder what else we have underestimated?"

"We knew there was an element of risk to the plan" appealed Cavil. "And yes, prudency does demand we pay much closer attention to them as this all plays out but the overall goal of our plan, if successful, will secure our future here in the colonies." Cavil paused for breath momentarily before continuing. "That said however...If the majority rule feels that the plan should be cancelled then I will personally order the four Basehips we have monitoring Hermes to remove the threat. I await your answer?"

Five and the Six shared another momentary glance before the Five responded "We have endorsed the plan and our decision still stands. Proceed!" A sly grin appeared on Cavil's face.

"By your command" he said subserviantly.


	8. Chapter 8

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Jump completed" reported Burmeister.

"Report!" ordered Bowman. The crew of the CIC worked their stations to assess their current situation. Burmeister monitored the DRADIS screen and confirmed that there were no contacts in the immediate vacinity.

"DRADIS is clear sir" she said. "No sign of pursuit!"

"Very good" said Bowman as he stood there staring at the screen hanging from the ceiling of the CIC. Silently he pondered the next move. The jump they had just completed had now put them that much further away from Scorpia. Bowman mentally ran through all his experience leading upto this point. He knew that what he was proposing was not going to be easy but he figured that the Cylons may still be disorganised enough to allow Hermes to sneak in? A counter argument suddenly came to mind. The Cylons aren't Human! They very well may have anticipated that avenue and manufactured enough of the new Centurions to insure their occupational army was of sufficient strength. But they were endowed with the spirit of man thus may have inherited some human flaw that he could take advantage of? Suddenly for the first time Bowman was confronted with putting his plan into action and the gravity of their situation. In the corner of his eye he saw Dytto waiting for his next order.

"We will remain at Condition One for fourty minutes just to be sure that we haven't been followed and then stand down to make preperations for our first jump to Scorpia" he commanded. He then turned to Burmeister. "Lieutenant!"

"Yes sir!" replied Burmeister.

"When we stand down from Condition One i want you to conduct a full tactical overview before we start back to Scorpia. Weapons. Vipers. Raptors. Marines. The works. Get Griffon and Imlay to spare no details regarding the air group. Please present it to to me at 0900 tomorrow."

There was a slight hesitance in Burmeister's voice as she acknowledged the command. As Bowman turned back he scanned the room with his eyes catching the nervous glance from the odd crewmember. The apprehension in the room was almost tangable. Maybe it was the shadow of having just been attacked but you could almost feel the fear in the air that was developing and worst of all consuming the ship. Because you have no choice is always the worst reason to do anything.

The next fourty minutes seemed to take a century to pass. Except for Burmeister and Stinger's brief encounter during the mission to the Hellenic Traveller they hadn't heard anything from the Cylons in over a week. Some had even thought they had escaped from them for good now that they were so far away from the twelve colonies. Clearly this was an error. As the clock ticked away Bowman replayed the attack in his mind. He tried to imagine it from the Cylon point of view. In the heat of the fight he had assumed that the Raiders were scouts. Now with the benefit of hindsight something was puzzling him. The second Raider jumped in a short while after the first. Even if both Raiders were on seperate scouting missions how did the first communicate to the second one for assisstance? There were no other contacts on DRADIS and therefore assisstance was out of the range of the Cylon wireless. So how then did the second scout know that the first had found the Hermes? Unless they weren't scouts and the attack was a poorly executed hit-and-run but that possibility made even less sense? If the Cylons knew where Hermes was then there would be no need for a hit-and-run. Hermes was hardly in a position to fight off a Baseship and its Raiders and the Cylons would have made a major _'snafu' _by revealing themselves to Hermes that significantly under strength. It would have been better to have continued to quietly track Hermes while reinforcements were called in. No - something about the attack troubled Bowman and the harder he thought about it the more and more confucing it became. He started to feel like he and his ship were being toyed with like a yard of string in the claws of a mischevious kitten. As his mind turned he realised that the clock was coming upto fourty minutes since completion of the jump.

"Alright stand down from Condition One!" ordered Bowman. There were some sighs of relief from the younger crewmembers in the CIC but both Bowman and Dytto shared a glance that silently cursed them for their ignorance but also envied them for it. It was a rare moment, born out of the heat of combat, where the two men saw things completely eye-to-eye.

* * *

Burmeister got to work on her latest assignment quickly, almost impatiently. Her first visit was to the port side Hanger Deck where Chief Imlay was working on a Viper and was in no mood to be bothered by her. Once again Slammer had lived upto his name and had knocked out the hydraulics in his landing strut. Nevertheless her insistance paid off and Imlay soon relegated the task of repairing the strut to a young female deckhand who was, unfortunately for her, just walking past. Burmeister followed Imlay into his office where the two of them sat going over the log books of every Viper, Raptor and Tanker aboard Hermes. A fully loaded Jupiter-class Battlestar should be able to muster close to two hundred operational Vipers. In Hermes' present condition there were just eighty-six airworthy Vipers. Twenty four more Vipers Imlay classed as repairable but without the parts to be repaired and so these were being cannibalised to keep the other eighty-six flying. Imlay surmised that there were wreckage from at least nine other Vipers that they were scouring for parts but the truth was that the long term situation looked grim.

"If only we had a Viper factory like on the Mercury-class" sighed Imlay. "But then again where would we find the raw material for it to function not to mention finding pilots to fly them."

Moving on to Raptors Hermes still had thirty seven fully functioning spacecraft and it were these little ships that Burmeister was most interested in at this point since they were fundamental to Bowman's plan to scavenge supplies. A common issue that kept recurring during their conversation was the issue of fuel for the sublight engines of the air wing. Not a single Combat Air Patrol had been launched let alone any training for over a week now in an effort to preserve the fuel for as long as possible. Luckily Hermes did have simulators for both Vipers and Raptors but as the pilots always put it "There just aint no substitute for the feel of actual vacum all around you." How could anyone blame Slammer for botching his landing when he hadn't landed a Viper for real in over eight days?

Having got everything she needed from Imlay she then proceeded to the pilots room and gave Grffon the same thorough drilling regarding the pilots. As expected the same grumbles came up and Burmeister was quick to cut Griffon off on a lot of them stating she had already been through this with Imlay and her instructions were not to make a list of 'Wouldn't it be nice if?' but rather to make a report on what the Hermes could actually muster for the operation to Scorpia.

As the evening wore on she had made her assessments of the engine room and the overall weapon status of the ship. It was tiring and tedious work but Burmeister kept herself at it as if refusing to stop for breath but finally the report was complete. She stopped and locked at the digital watch on her hand. The numbers read 02:25:55 and counting. With the sudden realistaion that she had been up for close to twenty hours and in that time had faced off a Cylon attack as well as her survey all of which was made worse by the low rations that the ship was on due to the supply shortage made her suddenly come over quite light headed. She knew she had to stop and rest.

Being a junior officer Burmeister was fortunate enough to have one of the 'luxury' quarters aboard Hermes being that there were only four bunks in the same space as one of the enlisted quarters which could have as much as eight to ten bunks in them. Burmeister sat in the space where her bunk was located. Ever since her first tour she had always taken the bottom bunk after an incident involving her getting out of bed a lot quicker than she had anticipated. She lay in 'her' space and rested her head against the back wall. This was the first time all day that her mind had stopped. This was always the worst part of the day for her because it gave her the opportunity to look back. Her eyes suddenly fell shut and she was asleep.

"Josh!" she gasped suddenly. The nightmare had returned. It was the same one she had been having ever since her secret fiance was killed eighteen days ago when a damaged Cylon Raider crashed into the landing control room on the starboard Hanger Pod where he was working. The Raider hits and Josh is screaming as his body is consumed by fire. She fought to keep back the memories everyday since it happened by consuming herself with work and there was plenty to do but at night he would come back in her dreams. She didn't even have a photo of him but she could still hear his voice speaking to her the last time they were allowed to be a couple.

* * *

FRIARS HOTEL, PICON CITY  
29 DAYS EARLIER  
FIVE DAYS BEFORE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

Chloe Burmeister was frantically tying her shoe laces to complete her uniform. The sound of running water could be heard from the doorway to the on suite bathroom as her fiancé, Joshua Albert, showered. Suddenly the water stopped and Joshua appeared in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"You don't waste any time do you?" said Joshua as he leaned against the doorway his tone not even pretending to hide his annoyance. Chloe sensed the ensuing argument and turned to pick up her jacket off the chair.

"Don't do this now!" she pleaded softly.

"Well how do you expect me to behave?" he said. "You just get up and go in the morning like we're having an affair or something. Then when we're on the Hermes you completely shut me out!"

"Josh!" protested Chloe. "You know what will happen to us if they find out. Dishonourable discharge! Everything we ever worked for would be just thrown away. Two officers who are in a relationship cannot serve on the same ship. Once you transfer to the Olympus we can go public and then we can get married."

Joshua paused for a moment as he stared at her. His mind was racing as it always was at this point. Then a horrible thought crept into his mind. Maybe she's just using that as an excuse. Maybe she's just playing me?

"Is that what you want?" he asked. "Really?"

"How can you say that?" she cried. "I am Gemonese! I-I shouldn't even be in the same room as you until we're married! Do you know what my parents would do to me if they ever found out we've slept together? I did that for you!"

"Okay" said Josh apologetically as he rushed to embrace her. "I know I just get so frustrated sometimes. I hate all this cloak-and-dagger type love."

"And you think I don't? Just…Just a little longer and all this sneaking around can end. But in the meantime we have to behave like officers."

Joshua looked into her dark blue eyes. In that instant all doubt erased.

"I know" said Joshua as he kissed her forehead. "Go on. You better go. I'll head out in an hour or so. I'll see you on the Raptor back to Hermes." The two of them hugged tightly and whispered "I love you" to each other before she turned and left.

* * *

PRESENT DAY

The pain of that last day that they were allowed to be a couple rushed over her. It was overwhelming. It was so powerful and Chloe had only one way that she felt she could cope with it. It was something she hadn't done for years but was now doing it every every night it seemed. Stuffed into her pillow was a small pen knife wrapped in a bloodied old rag. She closed the curtain on her bunk for privacy before she opened the rag and flicked out the old knife. She took off her uniform on the top half of her body right down to her bra and held the knife to the top of her arm. There were aready several small scratches on her arm that were still healing. Each one was no longer than inch.

As the blade cut into her skin she didn't feel the pain only the momentary relief that it brought with it.


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES  
COMMANDER BOWMAN'S OFFICE  
24 DAYS AFTER DESTRUCTION OF COLONIES

Lt. Chloe Burmeister looked down at the Captain's pips that Bowman had just presented her after she had given her report. It had been her ambition for so long to get promoted but the opportunity to prove herself worthy had seldom come up in peace time especially with the Hermes having been in refit for six months. Now, in the past twenty four days with Hermes on the run for its life she had been given all the opportunity she could have ever wanted to prove herself. Even she was occasionally surprised at how she had adapted to war. But as she looked at the two pips that were to replace her Lieutenant bars something didn't feel right even as Bowman explained his reasoning to her.

"I've come to rely on you _Captain" _he explained softly and with a hint of gratitude. "You've excelled yourself and brought honor to the ship. There is no doubt in my mind that you deserve this promotion. I thought it best I just hand them to you rather than present them to you, I know how much you hate military formality."

"Thank you sir" she replied.

"I wish I could say that things will get easier in the times ahead but unfortunately I'm going to be relying on you more and more over the coming weeks." Chloe felt an enormous lump appear in her dry throat as she listened to Bowman. "I would like you to lead the first Raptor mission to Scorpia. You will have full command of the mission. I need an officer who can think on their feet for this mission and keep a cool head. That officer is you Captain."

"I won't let you down sir." The lump had become a rock and her body seemed to plead with her to escape. Not just escape from this room. Not just this ship! She wanted to escape this whole universe. In her mind there was nowhere that was far enough for her to run because even though she had said to Bowman, a man she deeply respected, that she could be counted on a terrible searing pain cut into her heart as a small almost unnoticable voice appeared in the back of her mind_. You're going to break!_

"I know you won't Captain" said Bowman with a respectful smile. "Well then, if there's nothing else please make preperations for our first jump back to Scorpia!"

"With that in mind sir" interjected Burmeister. "I would respectfully like to recommend that we circumnavigate the Erebus Belt given our encounter with the Cylon Raiders. At the very least it would give us a safety margin to play with given the DRADIS interference in that region but would require another jump." Bowman looked at her like a proud father. There had been times in the past that he had promoted someone and then had doubts that they were ready and that he had made a mistake. In the span of five minutes Chloe Burmeister had proven herself worthy of the rank of Captain.

"I will leave it to your discretion Captain" he said. "Dissmissed!" Chloe was hesitant to leave however. "Something else Capatin?" asked Bowman as he returned to his seat behind the desk. Chloe paused before answering.

"Sir" she said looking for the words. She found what she needed embedded in military protocol. "Request permission to speak freely?"

"Of course" acknowledged Bowman.

"Sir there has been some talk about your plan. Some feel it's...too big a risk given our present condition."

"I am fully aware of the risk" said Bowman. "But i don't see any other alternative open to us at this time."

"Yes sir. But that's not what the talk is about sir."

"Oh?" said a bewildered Bowman. "Then what is it about?"

"Pegasus sir!" replied Burmeister bluntly. Bowman's eyes widened in surprise.

"Pegasus?" he repeated for confirmation. "What about her?"

"Sir some feel that we should be trying to find Pegasus and join up with her for support. Two Battlestars would be better than one and would increase our chances on a mission such as this."

"Pegasus!" interjected Bowman. "Left a fleet of fifteen civilian ships stranded for the Cylons to slaughter. They shot innocent people and robbed them for parts. There is no justification for that. They behaved less like Colonial officers and more like pirates. Let me ask you this Captain? What do you think Pegasus would do when they see us appear in our present state? Our defensive capability, as you are most definitely aware of, is significantly degraded but our engines and systems are still fully operational and interchangable with Pegasus. They would probably do the same to us as those civilians they left to die. No Captain! Pegasus is not a friendly! Clear?"

Bowman presented himself as firm but not cursing her recommendation. He didn't want his officers to be afraid of making a recommendation in the future but in this case he hinted that he didn't want to speak on this subject again and that his decision was final.

Chloe returned to her quarters after her meeting with Bowman. She removed her jacket and placed it on the bunk above hers that had recently been assigned to Melissa Saunders whose enlistment to the crew was in no small part thanks to Chloe's recommendation. She removed the Lieutenant bars from the collar and replaced them with a pair of Captain's pips before putting the jacket back on. Near the hatch was a small mirror and Chloe stood in front of it to look at Captain Burmeister for the first time. She had long dreamed of this day. She had imagined the proud look on her father's face and the love in her mother's eyes as she would walk in to the old family house as a Captain in the Colonial Fleet. But as she looked at the reflection she felt something she had never felt before whilst wearing a Colonial uniform - emptiness. What does it mean to be a Colonial Officer anymore? There wasn't even a fleet anymore. These days Hermes didn't feel like the proud warship it once was. It felt like a ship that had been highjacked by over five thousand refugees escaping the holocaust. There seemed to be very little distinction between civilian and soldier anymore. So what did it mean to Chloe to be a Captain now? Nothing!

Commander Bowman no doubt thought that the promotion would have rejuvinated her spirit somehow. The reality was that it served only to remind her further of what they had lost.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Bowman stormed into the CIC a short while later as they began to prepare for the first jump towards Scorpia. Before even getting near the CIC he mentally prepared himself for the task at hand. He knew that everyone was going to be looking to him for guidance during this operation. A perfect Commander had an air of superiority to him but above all a Commander must project confidence to those under him. A confident Commander is the glue that holds the crew of a Battlestar together and if the Commander isn't confident in his own abilities then how can the crew ever be? In truth Bowman was as apprehensive as they were. When the Cylons were launching their near relentless series of attacks on Hermes in the days immediately following the Battle above Picon Fleet Headquarters even Bowman began to question the possibility of survival. It was not an experience any sane person would want to repeat and yet here he was risking just that. He knew that this operation was an act of desperation but the crew needed to believe that this was just like any other military undertaking. There was both a goal and a method of execution. His mind prepared, he seemed to arrive in CIC like whirlwind and marched straight up to the Operations Desk where he picked up the handset and set it to 'loudspeaker' to talk to the crew.

"May I have your attention please? This is your Commander speaking!" Bowman's voice boomed through the ship bringing everyone to a halt. From the crew in the CIC to the civilians in the 'slum', over five thousand people could now here one man's voice. "In just a little while this ship will commence its first of eleven jumps back towards the colonies. In order to minimise the risk of detection by the Cylons we will be circumnavigating the Erebus Belt. The DRADIS interference in the belt should mask our approach. But at the same time it will make detecting any pursuing vessels difficult. That's just the price we have to pay. Now I know that some of you will be apprehensive, maybe even scared...That's alright. You wouldn't be human otherwise. But in a war against machines it is our humanity that will get us through. And if that isn't enough to convince you of success then remeber this - WE ARE STILL HERE! We have not bowed to the inevitable. This ship bares the name 'HERMES' the messenger God! I say this ship lives upto its name and sends a very important message back to the Cylons. Humanity will go on. It survives on this ship. Our homes maybe gone but this ship is our new colony and we must protect her with all the courage and conviction of the human spirit and_ that_ is something the Cylons know nothing about. And _that _is our greatest weapon. The order is...Prepare to jump!"

"SO-SAY-WE-ALL!"

It was to his total amazement that Bowman heard those supporting words coming from none other than his Executive Officer Caleb Dytto. The crew of the CIC responded "So say we all!" It was less than ideal so Dytto rallied them and again. "So say we all! So say we all! So say we ALL! So say WE ALL! SO SAY WE ALL!" A sudden energy filled the CIC. It was intoxicating and caught hold of everyone in the room. As the chants rang out Bowman and Dytto shared a glance. Its amazing what two people can communicate without speaking to one another. Across the Operations Desk Dytto communicated to Bowman...

_I don't like you. But I will follow you. And I'm still going to be a Royal pain in the ass!_

It was good enough for Bowman.

* * *

CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

The abandoned building was lashed by dark and heavy raindrops. It was a large warehouse that sat on the outskirts of a small town. The town was relatively intact being over thirty miles from the nearest city to be bombed by the Cylons. The radiation levels were quite low thanks to a prevailing wind through the adjacent mountain range that had blown much of the fallout from the nuclear bombs out to sea. Small towns like this one were cleared by Centurians rather than waste resources on bombing them. The streets were filled with blood but that was now being washed away in the almost unnatural rain.

A solitary figure wrapped up in layers of old clothing trundled its way through the town. The survivor had put on as much clothing as she could in a pityful attempt to make herself a home made radiation suit. Every bit of her body was covered leaving no bare flesh exposed whatsoever. Over her mouth was a decorater's mask with filtered air holes and her eyes were protected by a diving mask. In any other circumstances it would have looked quite comical but here it was a matter of life and death. Even though the radiation in this area was limited prolonged exposure would eventually take it's toll.

The figure reached the outskirts of the large warehouse almost on her last breath and glanced up at the sign along the top of the door.

"Thank the Gods!" she uttered under her mask.


	10. Chapter 10

BATTLESTAR HERMES STARBOARD HANGER DECK  
NINE JUMPS FROM SCORPIA

Melissa stood as straight and firm as she could along with all the other 'nuggets' that had signed on with the military from the Hermes' civilian population. Thirty of them were arranged in rows of five as Caleb Dytto walked between their ranks his face a bright red with frustration. He had been putting them through basic military drill for nearly an hour and they were little improved in that time. On at least more than one occasion the group seemed to resemble little more than a tray of marbles in a groundquake. Melissa's morale was now slumping. Her legs were aching from doing precise turns on the spot and as she had come to expect hunger was again begin to rear its ugly head. All that didn't matter to Dytto as he continued to pace between the ranks with a look of sheer contempt for nearly each and every one of them and Melissa felt that the anger was misplaced at times like it wasn't meant for them.

"Gods dammit!" he uttered to himself as he passed Melissa before exploding in a torrent of fury. "God's DAMMIT! I know what you're all thinking right now. What's the frakking point? We should be learning how to scrap toasters not how to turn on the spot. Well listen up and listen good! Discipline on the parade ground means discipline on the battlefield and discipline is the one of the corner stones of victory. You can have the most powerful weapon known to man in your hands but if you aren't disciplined enough to use it then your nothing more than threat to yourself and more importantly the mission. So we are going to do this again and again until you start looking like soldiers!"

Dytto had finished his little speech at the front of the ranks. In his fury he had failed to notice 'Griffon' was walking across the hanger deck towards them. He stood behind Dytto for just a few moments until the end of his 'speech'. He soon sensed Griffon's presence behind him and the interruption further added to Dytto's annoyance. Melissa kept her head straight but dared to turn her eyes to the side a little at the two men who were now mumbling something quietly to one another. 'Griffon' had a clip board in his hand and was using it to explain something to Dytto. After a few minutes of mumbling Dytto suddenly burst away back towards the assembled 'nuggets'.

"Saunders!" his voice boomed over them. Melissa's heart seemed to jump into her throat at the sound of her name being called out. "Front and centre."

Melissa nervously marched out to the front of the makeshift parade square trying to look as smart as she could but her nerves betrayed her. Standing to attention in front of two of the most senior officers onboard the Battlestar Hermes except for Bowman she saluted in an almost childlike way to them but 'Griffon' nevetheless very politely returned the gesture.

"Mmmm" uttered Dytto assessing her performance. "Good enough I suppose."

"Saunders" said 'Griffon'. "You've spent some time working on our Raptors so it's been decided that you are going to begin flight training as soon as possible."

Melissa didn't know what to say. Thank you didn't seem right somehow. The only words that could come to her mouth where "Yes sir."

She followed 'Griffon' off the parade square just as Dytto, now on the point of going nuclear, returned to breaking in the 'nuggets'. Following 'Griffon' through the decks of the Battlestar Melissa honestly didn't know if things were about to get better or worse for her. She had seen some of the flight crews during her time on Hermes and had even participated on a Raptor mission. She knew that for all their bravardo the pilots were having a harder time than most on the ship. They had taken significant losses and when their personal defences were down you could read the suffering in their eyes. That being said however the thought of piloting a little ship through space appealed to her daredevil side that she loved to explore back on Caprica. Surfing, gliding, spacewalking - she did it all for fun. But this wasn't recreational. This was for survival. The gravity of the situation seemed to pull her down and the corridors of the ship suddenly felt like they lead to a court room where she was about to be judged for some crime she was being accused of where a guilty verdict would mean death.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES WARDROOM

Bowman stood looking over the large map of the continents and oceans that made up Scorpia as it lay over the table that dominated the centre of the room. Littered around the map was every book and magazine on the ship that had absolutely anything to do with the colony. Burmeister stood quietly on the opposite side of the room as they waited patiently for 'Griffon' to join them. There was a cold silence in the room and she was using the time to examine the painting on the far wall depicting the God Hermes, the namesake of their ship, wearing his signature winged helmet. It was quite a large portrait and no one who entered could fail to notice its presence. Bowman lifted his head from the map and saw his younger officer looking up at it.

"Heavenly thoughts Captain?" asked Bowman hinting at her Gemonese upbringing.

"Just wondering something" she said almost absent mindedly.

"What exactly, may I ask?"

"When _he_ reached Zeus with news of what happened to our colonies did Zeus weep?"

Bowman had never considered himself a religious man but as he stood there he now started to wonder the very same question as Burmeister.

"Why wouldn't he weep?" mused Bowman.

"Well we are hardly innocent after all" she explained. "We created the Cylon. Blessed them with the same spirit the Gods bestowed upon us. Maybe Zeus would see our creation of the Cylon as a violation of our own soul? Maybe he would view this holocaust as just puntishment?"

The words rang in Bowman's mind. He had never really viewed the Cylons as having a soul. He saw them as nothing more than malfunctioning machines. A machine isn't a life! It is a thing. The Cylons didn't have a soul! What nonsense! But the words continued to imbed themselves into his mind and a horrible conclusion soon emerged from them. It was exactly that kind of bigotry that caused the Cylons to rise up against their masters in the first place. The Cylons were, by definition, artificial life. Life is life, artificial or otherwise. This unhappy train of thought was suddenly interrupted by three quick knocks on the hatch.

"Come in!" said Bowman loud enough for the person on the other side of the hatch to hear. The wheeled handle spun as it turned from the otherside of the hatch and 'Griffon' staggered in.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting sir" he said before closing the hatch. "I was breaking in one of the new civilian flight crew. Your friend Saunders as a matter of fact" he explained signalling to Burmeister.

"That's quite alright Major" said Bowman who didn't mind one of his officers being just a little late if there was a valid reason. "Please...Both of you take a seat." Bowman remained standing as the two officers he had assembled sat at the table on the opposite side of him. "Ok, I've called you both here today to discuss a search plan for when we reach Scorpia. It's no good us just flying around hoping to stumble upon supplies. Time and Fuel are our biggest enemies. We are limited in both. The longer we are down there the more likely the possibility that we get spotted by Cylons and I don't think I need to tell either of you about the current fuel situation regarding Vipers and Raptors. Now I plan to approach this issue in two stages in order to make the best educated guess we can as to the most likely place we may find supplies. Now the second stage will involve interviewing crewmen and civilians from Scorpia. If any of them have any local knowledge that we can use then all the better. Now I've gathered you two here to help me with the first stage. We are going to plan our own assault on Scorpia."

Both 'Griffon' and Burmeister's mouths opened in horror.

"Sir?" pleaded 'Griffon'. "You want to attack a Cylon occupied colony?"

"No" sighed Bowman. "Of course not_. We_ are going to put ourselves into the same frame of mind as the Cylons when they planned their attack on Scorpia. We need to know which areas would have been exposed to the greatest amount of radiation from the nuclear weapons. We need to identify where the Cylons would have hit and what sized weapon was used and the effects on the surrounding area. We need to factor in geography of the landscape when assessing what locations may have recieved heavy doses of radiation and which would have been protected by natural or artificial barriers. When we have narrowed down specific areas we can begin interviewing people for anyone who may have been there to gather as much local knowledge as we can ready for when begin sending down Raptors when we arrive in two days."

"Uh..." murmured 'Griffon' once more. "I'm sorry to interrupt sir but..."

"BUT you're wondering that given the current supply issue why are we travelling at a snail's pace to Scorpia? Is that it?" finished Bowman expecting the question to come up at some point. 'Griffon' nodded. "The situation maybe desperate Major but it would be foolhardy to waltz in and hope for the best. We are tip-toeing in so that we don't wake the Cylon dogs. After the next jump your Raptor pilots are going to be happy because they are going to be flying again. They will snoop ahead of us from then on. They are going to find the hole in the fence for us to exploit. Also the travel time will allow us more time for planning." Both 'Griffon' and Burmeister glanced around the map. It was indeed a daunting task that was before them and Bowman knew it also but they had to believe it was possible. "I know this is going to be like trying to catch an arrow travelling at a thousand miles an hour from a thousand miles away but it's all we have to go on. So with that it in mind...Let's bomb the Scorpion!"

They soon went to work. For the next hour and a half they thought like their enemy - cold, meticulous and efficient.. They traded their hearts for a Cylon CPU.


	11. Chapter 11

BATTLESTAR HERMES  
EIGHT JUMPS FROM SCORPIA  
PILOT'S BRIEFING ROOM

Melissa felt completely out of place as she sat waiting for the flight crews to assemble in the room with its ascending rows of chairs. Her feelings were exacerbated by her poorly fitting flight suit that was a size too big for her but was the closest thing they had in the stores. An additional strap had to be put around the waist so that it would fit more snugly. She was told to report to this room for a briefing at 0700hrs but in her nervous haste she had arrived at 0635hrs. Feeling like a schoolgirl again and not wanting to attract the teacher's attention she had taken a seat near the back. Over the next twenty five minutes pilots and ECMOs began to walk in and take their seat almost completely ignorant of the new addition to their ranks save for the odd lecherous glance from one or two of the male pilots. This only further increased Melissa's feeling of isolation and intimidation amongst them until a familiar voice echoed near her.

"Saunders isn't it?" the voice asked. Melissa turned her head in surprise at hearing someone call her name. She looked up at the man standing next to her with pilot's wings on his left breast and a Raptor patch on his arm. It was 'Stinger', the pilot who had flown the Raptor she was on to the Hellenic Traveller almost a week ago.

"Y-yes" she stuttered nervously. "Yes that's right. 'Stinger' right?"

"Yea" he replied. "So they got you on flight training now? Well welcome aboard."

"Thank you. Would you like to sit here?" she asked hinting at the seat beside her. 'Stinger' looked around at first and Melissa assumed that he had a regular seat that he preferred but just when it seemed he was about to sit elsewhere he replied "Sure, why not?" and he took the seat next to her. It came as a welcome relief to her to see a familiar face even if they had only met once. Suddenly everyone jumped to their feet as the hatch at the bottom of the room swung open. Melissa had failed to notice who had entered but she mimicked her 'colleagues' in a rush of adrenaline and nearly jumped to her feet.

"Good morning team" came a voice from the front. "Please be seated!"

As Melissa sat down she saw that 'Griffon' had been the one who had entered the room. She made a quick mental note to stand to attention every time he walked into a room with her in it. 'Griffon' stood at the podium that sat to the left of a large screen that dominated the wall ahead of them. 'Griffon' glanced through some notes of his before placing them on top of the podium for quick reference later.

"Ok. Good news!" announced 'Griffon'. "We are flying again." The massed ranks seemed to stir and breath long sighs of relief. "I know how frustrated you've all been and how glad you might you be feeling but don't think anyone's going for any joyrides just yet. The Commander wants a single Raptor to begin scouting ahead of the ship just prior to every jump towards Scorpia from now on."

"Sir!" immediately protested a Raptor pilot sat close to the front.

"What is it 'Magma'?" asked 'Griffon'.

"Sir standard practice would be for two or even three Raptors to conduct a forward recce' just in case the first misses something!"

"I'm well aware of that 'Magma'" acknowledged 'Griffon'. "Fuel considerations limit us to a single bird. You'll just have to be more thorough than usual." 'Magma' didn't seem impressed by the answer she was given and begrudgingly took her seat once more as 'Griffon' continued. "Ok next jump is in six hours. First Raptor flight is 'skids up' in one hour. And our winning Raptor team who is to be bestowed the honor of the first flight is..." 'Griffon' paused for breath after announcing it like an unenthusiastic game show host. "'Stinger'! And since you are so hot when it comes to Recce, you too 'Magma'."

There was a slight rumbling of muffled chatter in the room. Melissa looked to the right at 'Stinger' who had a rather uncomfortable look on his face. Melissa couldn't quite figure out what was the issue but she knew that there was some stigma to being paired up with 'Magma'.

"There's one other thing too" continued 'Griffon' looking at Melissa. "The two of you are going to have a passenger on board." 'Griffon' indicated at Melissa. "This is Miss Saunders our newest nugget. She's coming on to train as an ECO to help bolster our losses. Its going to be up to you two to train her on this mission. Now she already has some experience with our systems and has participated in a mission already so is not as green you might expect but now we have to bring her up to speed." 'Griffon' paused for thought a minute. "And...If you are going to be joining our ranks you're going to need a callsign."

"Blondy!" "Newby!" "Chick!"

The men in the room all had plenty of names for the young and attractive Melissa making note of her bright blond shoulder length hair. Some of the female pilots looked on in scoff and disgust at the men who were seemingly foaming at the mouth over the new ECMO-in-training. Melissa didn't take too kindly to the names being volunteered and hoped they wouldn't be accepted.

"Charybdis!" shouted 'Hot Top'.

"What was that?" asked 'Griffon' catching on. Melissa looked down at the red haired woman on the right hand side of the briefing room almost directly in front of her.

"Charybdis" explained 'Hot Top' venomously. "She looks like a man eater." There was again muffled chuckles and Melissa could here at least one of them uttering something so vulgar it made her stomach turn. 'Griffon' didn't seem to like it though.

"No" he whined. "Too long. On the same lines though how about Scylla?" Nobody liked that one due to its affiliation with what happened on the ship of the same name. Looking at her bright yellow hair it suddenly dawned on 'Griffon'. "Aurora!" he announced. "Goddess of the dawn." There was acceptance all round. Melissa Saunders was now 'Aurora' and even she liked the name. For Melissa it was like being reborn as this new person and she accepted the title with pride. In less than an instant she was no longer an outsider. She was now one of them and she felt ready for her first mission - her first proper mission as a Raptor crewman.

* * *

PORT LANDING BAY  
RAPTOR ONE-SEVEN-NINER

The Raptor sat on the lift as it rose into the cavernous vacuum filled landing bay. Melissa looked out of the cockpit of the little ship as she sat up front with Magma. It was one of the only places on a Battlestar where you can truly gauge the size of these immense vessels. Melissa's stomach twisted and turned in excitement and anxiety. At this point it was getting hard to differentiate between the two. The Raptor shuddered as the lift reached the top. 'Magma' then spoke across the wireless.

"Hermes' Port Control this is Raptor One-Seven-Niner requesting permission for departure?"

"Cleared to proceed Raptor One-Seven-Niner" crackled the voice in return.

"Roger that!" acknowledged 'Magma.' "Disengaging magnetic locking clamps!" Melissa felt a slight thump underneath the Raptor. "This is Raptor One-Seven-Niner beginning departure." 'Magma' nudged the controls back slightly and the two ventral thrusters fired momentarily lifting the Raptor away from the deck. With enough distance from the deck 'Magma' fired the dorsal thrusters to counteract the upward motion before applying forward throttle and the Raptor seemed to glide effortlessly forward across the Landing Bay and out into the eternal black of space.

_This is it_ thought Melissa. This is _'Aurora's_ first mission and she sat back in her chair like an excited schoolgirl as she watched everything 'Magma' was doing all the while picturing herself doing it on her own one day even though she was to be trained as an Electronics Countermeasures Officer or 'Eck Mo'.

"Ok we're clear of Hermes" reported 'Magma'. "Beginning jump prep! FTL is spooling." Melissa's heart was now racing. It was an odd experience compared to the fear she had during the mission to the Hellenic Traveller. Now 'Aurora' was almost relishing the experience. The adrenaline was proving almost intoxicating. "Jumping in five...four...three...two...one!"

A bolt of light engulfed the Raptor as it made its Faster-Than-Light jump away from Hermes like a little baby bird that has just learned how to fly.

* * *

(_AN - BSG is as much about people as it is about space battles and thats why im spending so much time on the charactor of Melissa so that the reader can experience life for a civilian as she transits into becoming a Colonial Warrior. Hope you are still enjoying_)


	12. Chapter 12

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Bowman stood next to the Operations Desk taking a moment to absorb the atmosphere around him. A strange new aura had consumed the crew since they had began their journey to Scorpia. The anxiety that had so consumed the crew had faded replaced by deep concentration of thought to the mission at hand. Even the complaints about hunger due to half rations had stopped. Everybody was so busy with their work that they didn't have time to dwell on anything. It was an unexpected side effect of turning back towards the colonies but it was a welcome one. It was exactly what the crew needed. Something to focus on rather than just running from the Cylons. The Hermes felt like a Battlestar once more and not a heavily armed refugee ship as it had been feeling for quite some time now.

Bowman's eyes returned to the almost hypnotic glare of the DRADIS screen hanging from the centre of the room above the Operations Desk. Burmeister stood on the far end of the Operations Desk with the map of Scorpia. She was still finalising some of the possible locations on the former colony that they had narrowed down to from earlier to begin looking for supplies when they arrive. Marines were now interviewing anybody from Scorpia or who had spent time on the colony over the list they had produced but their efforts weren't coming to much. It was surprising how many people thought they had been somewhere but couldn't be sure.

Bowman absent mindedly glanced down at his watch. The Raptor reconnaissance mission was due back within the hour barring contact with the Cylons of course. Then the Hermes could make its next jump on the path to Scorpia. He suddenly felt like he was the only one with nothing to do. Surely this wasn't the trademark of a good Commander? He walked over to Burmeister and talked with her a while about her work when suddenly he was interrupted by a man in civilian clothes standing intrusively beside him.

"Pardon me for interrupting" said Dr Deveroux. Bowman seemed to click his jaw in annoyance. He was still quite unsure of Deveroux and prefered it when he was locked away in sickbay and not standing in the CIC.

"What can I do for you Doctor?" asked Bowman as his eyes returned to the map desperately trying to look busy for Deveroux to take the hint and leave.

"A Marine is in my sickbay questioning people who have been to Scorpia," explained Deveroux.

"Yes!" acknowledged Bowman. "As you were briefed Doctor we are returning to Scorpia and we are trying to gather as much information about possible sites for salvage operations before we start sending down our people. It shouldn't take too long. The Marine will be gone just as soon as he has his information."

"Oh you misunderstand!" said Deveroux apologetically. "I have no objection to the Marine in my sickbay."

"Then what can I do for you?" he asked looking up from the chart.

"I heard the Marine mention a valley in the North Western Territories called Serena, is that correct?" inquired the Doctor. Bowman looked into the back of his mind for recognition of the name but failed to find it so he turned to Burmeister on his right for an answer. Burmeister gave Bowman an acknowledging glance back before answering Deveroux.

"Yes that's right Doctor" she said. "We believe that it's geography has offered some protection from the nuclear fall out."

"What of it?" interjected Bowman still looking for a reason why Deveroux was not in sickbay.

"Well I've happened to spend some time at a friend's house in an adjacent valley" explained Deveroux. "I've been there and I thought I'd offer my knowledge in planning your survey."

"You could have left that information with the Marine, Doctor" said Bowman. "There really wasn't any need for you to come to CIC."

"Yes, well" uttered Deveroux. "Truth-be-told I was getting a little fed up of nurse Taylor's chit-chat" he joked thinking Bowman would share in the remark.

"The gossiping habits of your staff should not interfere in your duties as the ships Chief Medical Officer" returned Bowman, his voice authoritive and scolding at the almost carefree attitude Deveroux was apparently taking to his duties. Burmeister's eyes watched Deveroux as Bowman passed the remark. She noted that Deveroux didn't even flinch as Bowman reprimanded him. It was as if he didn't care. _Arrogant bastard _she thought to herself.

"I can assure you Commander that me coming to you has not impacted on my medical duties in anyway. The nurses are well trained, my predecessor did a grand job with them and so I felt that it would be ok to come see you and the Lieut...I'm sorry" Deveroux smiled apologetically at Burmeister who translated the gesture into one of sleeze. "_Captain _Burmeister! Come and see the two of you in person. I felt that my information would be of worth to you."

"Your dilligence is to be commended" said Bowman feigning a compliment. "Very well Doctor since your already here. What do you have for us?"

"Uh...If I may?" asked Deveroux gesturing to the map. Burmeister picked up the map off the desk and walked around Bowman towards the Doctor who was taking out a small pair of glasses from his jacket pocket and rested them on his nose. Burmeister placed the map down and folded it until it was displaying only the North Western Territories. Deveroux leaned forward to examine it and to speed things up Burmeister quickly pointed him to the Serena Valley. "Ah yes!" Bowman watched him studying the map closely and noticed that his glasses didn't seem to sit right on Deveroux's head but thought little more of it. "Ah!" shot Deveroux as he put his index finger down on a small squiggle of lines indicating roads near the base of the valley. "There! There it is."

"There's what?" asked Burmeister.

"A distribution centre for Caprimart" explained Deveroux. Caprimart was one of the biggest corporations in the twelve colonies. They had a bigger stake in supermarkets than any other corporation. "There was one right there. My friend's son worked there. I went there once to drop him off at work when I was staying with them. It distributes produce to several nearby stores and all of which is sealed away and should still be good to eat."

"Are you sure?" gasped Burmeister in almost total disbelief at this stroke of luck.

"Yes" replied Deveroux confidently. Bowman listened intently as Deveroux went on to explain more about what he had seen. It was perfect! Almost too perfect. The topography of the land coupled with a prevailing wind down through the valley offered excellent natural protection from the fallout from nuclear bombs landing on the nearby city of Oberon which would have almost certainly been hit by the Cylons. This fact coupled with the location of a Caprimart distribution centre at the base of the valley plus the fact that that they just happened to have someone on board who knew the location of the centre was just too sweet for Bowman to swallow whole. It was a short while later as Deveroux was leaving the CIC that he voiced these thoughts aloud.

"Given this information, Commander" said Burmeister. "I strongly advise that this be our first location we survey."

"Agreed" said Bowman through gritted teeth as he watched the figure of Deveroux walk away. With her own new found enthusiasm of Deveroux's information Burmeister looked puzzled with Bowman's seeming lack of such enthusiasm. This was, after all, his plan and this was exactly what he was hoping for. Bowman caught the questioning gaze from her and felt compelled to explain.

"Maybe I'm getting cynical in my old age" joked Bowman "but this all seems too perfect to me. Like the God's are cutting us a break. When things are this perfect my alarm bells usually ring and right now they are deafening. But for the sake of the Gods I cannot explain why?"

"Sir?" asked a concerned Burmeister. "Are we going to disregard this information?"

"No" replied Bowman. "Make plans for the first Raptor to touch down in the Serena Valley. I see no other reason not to. Just wish I knew why I had such a bad feeling about this?"

"Aye sir" replied Burmeister who was convinced enough to get back to work leaving Bowman at the Operations Desk wrestling with his gut feeling that was now seeming to taunt him.

* * *

RAPTOR RECONNAISSANCE MISSION

'Magma' sat with her arms folded in the cockpit of Raptor One-Niner-Seven frustrated out of boredom. The Raptor was paractically drifting through space with its engines idling rather than in the standard controlled burn in an effort to conserve as much fuel as possible. Nothing could be wasted at this point. The three occupants were crammed into the little ship and movement was further restricted by their environmental suits. On comabt reconnaissance missions it was standard practice to decompress the Raptor's interior so that in the event of a hull breach from enemy fire or shrapnel there would be no explosive decompression thus increasing the crews survivability but reducing their overall comfort. A necessary evil is how 'Stinger' described it to Melissa.

Melissa spent the first two hours sitting beside 'Stinger' as he worked the ECMO station in the rear. Melissa was initially confused as to why 'Stinger' was sitting in the back but this was clearly a sore subject with 'Magma' who quite forcefully exercised her desire not to fly in a Raptor _anymore _unless she was piloting_. _Melissa knew there was a story in there somewhere but chose not to press for it. 'Magma' didn't seem the talkative type. 'Stinger' went on to explain that he was a fully qualified ECMO and that most Raptor pilots start out in the backseat. Melissa observed carefully the way that 'Stinger' worked the ECO panel as he conducted low density DRADIS scans and monitored the Raptor's passive scanners that could detect DRADIS or other scanner signatures that were being emitted against the hull thus revealing that they had been detected.

After the first two hours were up 'Stinger' decided it was time for "Aurora" to conduct her first DRADIS sweeps. Melissa sat in the chair after 'Stinger' stood up and moved to the side. Her first thoughts were of being overwhelmed by the seeming complexity of the station that she was now training to operate.

"Don't worry" chuckled 'Stinger'. "Everyone has the same feeling the first time they climb into the seat. I suppose it's worse for you just being 'press ganged' into flying Raptors." Melissa shared the joke with a feminine smile. She made herself comfortable in her seat and began exploring the console with her eyes trying to mentally register the location of every button and screen but this further added to its intimidation. "The control layout isn't as dauniting as it might first appear" continued 'Stinger'. "It is all organised in a logical and linear fashion. It's kind of like a conveyor belt. You start with your scan settings then as you move along there are different checks and analysis procedures to undertake in order to determine just what it is you've got. It's kind of like...opening a present. First you take off the wrapping paper and then open the box to reveal what's inside. Does that help?" tried 'Stinger' who was clearly having trouble adapting to the role of Instructor. "Perhaps you'll learn by doing?"

For the second half of the mission Melissa learned the basics of operating the Raptor's sensors while 'Stinger' carefully watched over her - they were on an operational sortie after all. In truth very little had happened since they had jumped in. They had scoured a vast area and had uncovered no sign of the Cylons. Melissa was thankful of the time that she had to learn the system and after an hour and a half she was able to conduct her own, albeit clumsy, DRADIS scans.

"You're quite a fast learner" said 'Stinger'.

"Thank you" she replied as her cheeks reddened ever so slightly. "I think that my work with the deck gang is paying off."

"Guess so" said 'Stinger' smiling. A faint crackling hissed in their headsets that sounded vaguely like 'Magma' saying something along the lines of "Get a room!" There was a sudden alarm and a large blip appeared in the top right of the DRADIS screen.

"Ok look alive you two!" yelled 'Magma' looking down at her own DRADIS screen. "We got something." In less than an instant the almost laid back feeling of the mission became a torrent of panic as 'Magma' and 'Stinger' burst into action. Melissa almost jumped aside as 'Stinger' replaced her in the ECMO seat.

"Single contact!" he reported. "It's big too! Too big to be a Raider but...Its smaller than a baseship. Could be a new type we haven't seen yet? Im not picking up any transponder signals from it so it aint a friendly! I think we should get out of here."

"No!" shot 'Magma'.

"What?" gasped Stinger. His shocked question had fallen on deaf ears. Flabbergasted, both he and Melissa looked forward at their pilot who sat almost unmoving in the front looking down at her DRADIS screen.

"It's dead!" she suddenly said. She looked back at the two of them as she repeated "It's dead. It's on a constant course at a constant speed." She looked back at the screen just to confirm it herself. "Whatever it is it's dead. I'm laying in an intercept course. Let's check it out."

"Magma!" interjected 'Stinger'. "Our orders are to sight any contacts and then jump back to Hermes."

"And when they ask what did we see?" said 'Magma'. "What do we tell them? We don't know. So they will waste even more fuel just to send another mission out here to check it out. Come on, we are on recce so lets recce something." Melissa had a strong sense of forboding as the main engines fired and the Raptor altered course to intercept the object. It took several minutes to catch up with the object. In the blackness of the eternal night the three of them struggled to make out just what it was as it came into range. Only a long cigar shaped silhouette was what their eyes could distinguish from the dark background. 'Magma' reached over and turned on the Raptor's powerful signal light and guided it onto the object. As the light passed over the object it revealed the charred and twisted remains of a section of a ship. 'Stinger' was the first to identify what it was.

"Its the starboard Hanger Pod from a Battlestar" he said.

"It was at one point" added 'Magma'. "It's a tomb now. We were bound to stumble across some wreckage of the fleet when we started heading back to the colonies. Wouldn't surprise me if we come across more later."

'Magma' stationed the Raptor a few hundred yards from hulk casting its light from stem to stern while 'Stinger' made a digital recording of as much as he could for further analysis back on Hermes. Much of the Landing and Hanger Deck had been blown away by an immense internal explosion that had twisted the charred metal outwards but the ventral half of the pod was relatively intact and seemingly undamaged. Having been blown away from its ship the pod was now drifitng through space without anything to stop it or slow it down. After a few minutes of photographing the hulk 'Stinger' suggested that it was time to return to Hermes and both 'Magma' and Melissa agreed.

"FTL is spooling" announced 'Magma'. A few seconds later the Raptor began its Faster-Than-Light jump back to its mother ship leaving the charred remains of the Battlestar to continue its death march through space to oblivion.


	13. Chapter 13

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"And this was floating in your search area?" Bowman's eyes hadn't left the screen since uploading 'Stinger's photographs. Normally the screen hanging over the Operations Desk had a copy of the DRADIS imagery that dominated Burmeister's console but now it showed the twisted and charred wreckage of what was once another of the mighty Battlestars. 'Stinger', 'Magma' and Melissa had even changed out of their flightsuits. They stood beside Bowman as he examined the pictures. This was the first time she had really seen Bowman. She had glanced at him occasionally but she never had the chance to really examine the highest ranking person on the Hermes in detail until now. He was shorter than she expected him to be. Maybe the Zeus-like persona of being the Commander had influenced her impression of him somehow?

"Yes sir" acknowledged 'Stinger'. "We only _just_ stumbled across it at extreme range from the target point so it shouldn't pose a hazard when we jump. We didn't detect any trace of the rest of the ship."

"Wouldn't surprise me anyway" interjected Dytto standing on the opposite side of the Operations Desk. "The fleet was destroyed almost a month ago. In that time, depending on the force of the explosion that ripped it off, it could have travelled hundreds of thousands of miles through vacum."

Something was catching Bowman's attention. He didn't seem to be listening to Dytto but rather his entire focus was on the images projected on the screen. Dytto looked down at his watch. It was approaching the allotted time for their next jump towards Scorpia. He looked up at Bowman with glee who hadn't seemed to notice. This was another point for him to score against Bowman.

"Sir?" he said. "It's almost time for our next jump. Unless you wish to _delay _a little while." Dytto used the word delay as if accusing Boman of holding them back. The whole crew in CIC waited for Bowman's response. All were waiting for the day when Dytto would finally reach Bowman's limit of tolerance. But today was not the day. Bowman simply looked down at his own watch and grinned slyly to himself, something that seemed to irratate Dytto.

"Well Mr Dytto" said Bowman almost mockingly. "I suggest you begin jump prep. I wouldn't want to _delay _us any longer." Dytto seemed to turn red. Bowman had masterfully turned his own insult against Dytto. His own fury was exacerbated by his noticing of at least three crewman trying desperately to conceal a smirk which Dytto ignored because to acknowledge it would be to acknowledge Bowman.

Dytto stood up firm composing himself as he did so. "Begin jump preperations!"

"Once the jump is complete" added Bowman. "Get Chief Imlay up here!"

* * *

The Battlestar Hermes emerged in a brilliant flash of energy as it completed its Faster-Than-Light jump. Bowman dismissed the Raptor crew as the CIC came alive as the crew managed their consoles checking all systems and DRADIS scans of the surrounding area. Immediately after a jump was one of the most vulnerable times for a Battlestar and it always got the heart beating just that little bit faster to know that your jumping into the abyss. After a few moments every department reported in that everything was normal.

"Single DRADIS contact" reported Burmeister as Chief Imlay entered the CIC. "It's the wreckage the Raptor crew reported." Chief Imlay stood to attention next to Bowman.

"Ah, Chief!" said Bowman. "I want you to take a look at these. There's something I want your opinion on."

"Uh, of course sir" said Chief Imlay slightly confused as to why _he_ was summoned to the CIC. He knew about what the Raptor crew had found and although he was the Deck Chief and it was a Hanger Pod he thought someone from Engineering would have been called for help and not him.

"Here!" lead Bowman indicating to the images on the screen. "Tell me what you see?"

Chief Imlay looked at the images that had so occupied Bowman's thoughts since he had first seen them. He noted the outward curving damage to the roof of the Hanger Pod indicating an explosion or a series of explosions inside the Landing Deck. The Hanger Pod itself had been separated from its ship by an explosion near the ambilical 'arm' that linked the pod to the main ship. Judging from the lower half of the pod that remained relatively intact he mused that the Battlestar was probably one of the older classes of Battlestar.

"Probably from an Orion-class" Imlay continued. "The Underway Replenish-." Imlay seemed to stop in his tracks. He turned to Bowman who was smiling as if happy that someone else had spotted it too. This was why he had summoned Imlay. He would have been the one to notice being the Deck Chief. "They look intact! There's some warping on the external armour plating covering the UR valve from the heat of the blast but-." Imlay continued to examine the image. "The ventral armour apears to have withstood the blast. The aviation fuel storage tanks could be intact!"

"Chief, I want you to assemble an EVA team to cut through the armoured hatch covering the UR valve. Providing that the valve is intact then it should be a case of simply hooking up to Hermes and taking what we need" said Bowman.

"Yes sir" added Imlay. "But thats a lot of armour plating to cut through and even then there's no way of knowing if the valve is intact."

"Still it's the only opportunity we've had so far to replenish our fuel supply" said Bowman. "Assemble your team!"

"Yes sir!" said Imlay who saluted before turning and leaving the CIC. Everyone continued their work but Bowman felt eyes drilling into his head. He turned and expectantly saw Dytto with a disapproving look on his bitter face. Bowman sighed almost agitated at his XO. "What is it Colonel?" he asked looking away from him back at the screen.

"Cutting through that armour is going to take a lot of time" said Dytto. "You know that! I thought we were keeping to our schedule. Thats what _you_ said we need to do."

"I am well aware of what I said, Colonel. But this is an opportunity we may not get for a long time yet."

"Very well" uttered Dytto as he walked away. Bowman's eyes kept away from Dytto but he was fighting the urge yet again to throw himself at his XO. He had been keeping his own fury bottled up but it was getting harder and harder to cap it off. Soon now thought Bowman. Its only a matter of time before Dytto will force his hand.

* * *

The hatch of the Raptor opened to reveal the hunk of wreckage that was once a Battlestar Hanger Pod as it sat in the darkness of the space. Chief Imlay and three of his deck gang stood in the Raptor's main compartment each suited up to survive in space. He hooked himself into a small chairlike device called the Mobile Manouvering Unit (MMU) a device that allows someone on an EVA (Extra Vehicular Activity) to independantly move around in space for a short period of time. Once he was secure in the MMU he unhooked his safety cable from the roof of the Raptor that prevented him from falling out and stepped forward. He took a long steel wire from the reel fixed to the floor of the Raptor and hooked it to his MMU. He then appeared to leap from the cabin. Floating freely he nudged the control colum in his right hand and a small thruster on the MMU fired pushing him forward towards the wreckage.

It was a short journey to the wreckage from the Raptor. The pilot, whose callsign was 'Show off', certainly lived upto his name as he manouvered the Raptor into such a way that it matched the speed and rotation of the wreckage as it spun through the eternal night sky. In the featureless black of space it appeared as though neither were moving when in fact both the Raptor and the wreckage were travelling at over a hundred miles an hour! As Imlay approached the wreckage he fired his forward thrusters on the MMU and he came to a gentle stop just inches from the hull near the circular armoured hatch covering the UR valve. He placed the end of the steel wire onto the hull attaching it with a ceramic adhesive patch before waiting a few moments for it to settle. Tugging on the seal to test it was safe he then radioed back to his team, "Ok, come on over!" Devoid of an MMU Imlay's deck gang had to hook themselves up to the wire and pull themselves and their equipment across to the wreck.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE  
THREE HOURS LATER

Bowman had left the CIC about twenty minutes ago to get something to eat. He had nibbled on a small and wholly unsaisfying ration pack before returning to the 'brain' of Hermes. As he walked through the door the Marine guard stood to attention and Bowman acknowledged the sentiment with an appreciative nod before his eyes fell upon Dytto who was kneeling next to Burmeister talking with toned down voices. This did not bode well with Bowman and in his head he pictured her as the rope in a game of tug-o-war bewteen him and Dytto. As he walked up to them Dytto suddenly cut off his conversation with her and stood upright.

"How are they getting on out there?" asked Bowman.

"They been at it nearly three hours now" reported Dytto. "They're having to cut through a lot of armour plating and their laser torch is almost dead."

"Has Imlay given an estimate?" asked Bowman. Dytto swallowed before answering as if pushing some hasty and distatseful remark to the back of his throat.

"Since he doesn't have the heavy gear he needs he estimates at least another nine to twelve hours before they are through." Dytto glanced a look at Bowman that reconfirmed his disproving opinion on this matter. Dytto was still smarting from Bowman's remark earlier that day.

"Have Chief Imlay keep going until his batteries die out then bring him and his team back in for a rest before they go out again" ordered Bowman.

"Yes...sir" replied Dytto.

* * *

'Show Off' sat in the cockpit of the Raptor listening to the short wave wireless transmissions between the members of Imlay's team with nothing else to do when he suddenly heard his name called out by one of them.

"Hey 'Show Off'" yelled Imlay. "Anytime you want to come over and y'know help out please by all means feel free." The exhaustion was evident in Imlay's voice but so too was a tone of defiance. Defiance against the frustration of a machine that refuses to work that only engineers know.

"Believe me" said 'Show Off'. "If I could get out of this tin can I frakking would."

"Yea I'm sure" said Imlay. "Hey Pollux, watch the depth gauge...The depth gauge! Your-"

The wireless cut out and in the corner of his eye 'Show Off' saw a blinding flash. He had only a few moments to look as the armoured seal burst towards him like a rocket engulfed in red and orange flames that danced wildly in space. The armoured seal burst through the main cabin of the Raptor ripping off the roof and one of the main engines sending the Raptor off drifting through space, now just another dead bird.


	14. Chapter 14

BATTLESTAR HERMES SICKBAY  
TWO HOURS LATER

Bowman stood near the doorway to the sickbay as he looked across the room at the three black bags that were being wheeled into the morgue. He wanted to say or do something that would have helped ease his anguish over their loss. It was his idea to attempt to salvage fuel from the Hangar Pod. He ordered them out there. The result was three dead crewman, a Raptor pilot in a coma and his Deck Chief being treated for oxygen deprivation after the oxygen line on his suit was severed by debris. Before Devereaux stopped anyone seeing him Imlay had told Bowman that he believed the cause of the explosion was fuel on the other side of the seal leaking from the valve that was ignited by the laser torch. As the door to the morgue was sealed shut by nurse Taylor, Bowman realised that there was nothing more he could do here and he turned to leave in self hatred and shame. He began to make his way to CIC to prepare for the next jump towards Scorpia. The reconnaissance Raptor hadn't long returned from scouting their next jump point and had reported the area clear of Cylon activity but as he neared the CIC he found that every step was getting heavier and heavier the closer he got to it until suddenly he was forced to stop and lean against a wall. His eyes seemed to ache in pain as if the image of the body bags were somehow being branded on his pupils. How could he return to CIC in this state? He was begnning to doubt everything he was doing. Why? Why now? Since the battle above Picon almost a month ago the Hermes had lost close to four hundred crewmembers fighting the Cylons. So why was the loss of these three affecting him so much? Until he knew the answer he couldn't bare to enter that room and turned back. Instead he began to make his way to his office, his body stooping as if pulling a large rock.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Captain Chloe Burmeister sat patiently at her station ready to begin the preperations for the next jump. She looked around the CIC and saw that she was not the only one who was waiting patiently. In fact the whole CIC seemed to be holding it's breath waiting for Bowman to arrive and give the order. Some of them, including Burmeister, knew that you shouldn't assume any order is about to be given but since the operation to go to Scorpia had been announced a strict schedule had been drawn up for when each jump should take place. Despite the ill fated salvage mission to the derelict Hangar Pod the crew were now back on schedule. But as Chloe looked at some of the faces of her comrades she saw her own feelings over the incident reflected in their faces. Indeed with the explosion on the Hangar Pod combined with the Hellenic Traveller mission the one thing that seemed to be draining from the Hermes faster than its supplies was that much needed sentiment of any difficult undertaking - hope. There didn't seem to be any left. The explosion and the resulting deaths of three more crewman had extinguished the fire that was left in their hearts. Everyone seemed to be doing things out of habit rather than their thurst for survival and Chloe knew it as the top of her arm seemed to sting at the thought. She looked down at the source of the pain and to her horror saw two very small drops of blood seeping through the fabric of her uniform. They were very miniscule and as she composed herself from the intial shock she thought that as long as no one got too close to her then they wouldn't notice and she could change her uniform later.

Of course not all of the CIC crew had lost their spark. Colonel Caleb Dytto frustratedly paced around the Observation Desk constantly checking his watch as the time to jump continued to approach. It was now less than nine minutes before the next jump and as he continued to circle the desk his mind burned with the image of Bowman as he assessed and then criticised every decision Bowman had made recently starting with the Hangar Pod then working back. Pretty soon Dytto's mind was travelling through time back to the day that he was informed that he would not be taking command of the Hermes. That was the day everything went to hell as far as Dytto was concerned. Dytto had been the Executive Officer of Hermes for four years before Artimus Bowman had shown up. He knew the Battlestar better than anyone else especially an average career officer who probably kissed more than a few Admiral's asses like he presumed Bowman had. Dytto knew he weren't popular with the 'brass'. He had developed a reputation for being outspoken much to his own detriment and thus even though he was sure he was the right man for the job he was turned down and brushed aside in favor of another Admiral's pet.

These thoughts only served to further open the wound he had sustained that day when what should have been the crowning achievement of his career was stolen away from him. The bleeding heart that Dytto now carried in his chest fuelled the angry frustration that was powering him around the Operations Desk until he could take it no more. The nine minutes had passed and it was as if the countdown was not for the next jump but rather to signal the long awaited confrontation between Bowman and Dytto.

"Captain Burmeister!" he announced. Chloe got up from her chair and turned to face Dytto before standing to attention.

"Yes sir?" she asked.

"Take the Con please!" and with that he stormed out leaving Burmeister fearing the worst.

"I have the Con!" she said almost in a whisper as she moved her shoulder to displace the pain that had once again risen in her self inflicted wounds.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE

Bowman didn't know what he expected to find in his office. Perhaps it was some momentary solace from locking out the rest of the world? Perhaps with the shutting of the hatch he was also shutting away the ghosts of all those who had died under his command since the war had began? War? This isn't a war! This is a slaughter! As he sat there slumped almost pathetically in his chair his eyes glanced down at his Colonial uniform and felt like he was some kind of doll dressed up to pretend to be something that he isn't anymore. He may have trapped the ghosts of those dead men and women on the other side of the hatch but he had imprisoned himself with his own self loathing. He asked himself if those ghosts on the other side would have forgiven him for not keeping them alive and as if to answer him there was a loud knocking on the hatch.

"Come in!" he yelled snapping himself out of his downward spiral. The circular handle spun around before the door arched open and Dytto entered the room. He hadn't even said anything to Bowman before he began to shut the hatch behind him so they wouldn't be disturbed. Bowman said nothing as he watched with interest as to how this was going to play out. With the hatch securely sealed Dytto marched up to the front of Bowman's desk and stood firmly in front of him. Bowman felt like somehow he had entered into a boxing ring but even so he still refused to respond to Dytto's forceful intrusion.

"The ship is ready and the crew are waiting for your orders...Sir!" spat Dytto angrily venting the now glowing frustrating that was emanating from him. Bowman's eyes looked down at the top drawer of his desk stubbornly refusing to look at Dytto. Bowman didn't really know what to say right now. It was as if his entire body had shut down refusing to respond to his brain's commands. Dytto's eyes ran down the back wall until they rested on Bowman's slouched body. "Did you hear me?" he uttered with poison spewing from every word.

"I heard you Colonel" sighed Bowman. "So what do you want? The order?" There was a pause between the two men.

"Permission to speak freely?" shot Dytto through gritted teeth. The request had brought a momentary smile to Bowman's lips as he told himself a private joke.

"You've never had a problem before" he said. "Don't disappoint me now."

"How many more is it going to take until you are satisfied? Going to Scorpia is a mistake! Just like that so-called salvage mission to that piece of frakking debris that killed three good people. Are you so smug and arrogant that you cant even admit your own mistakes? Huh?"

"I don't need to admit it" said Bowman calmly. "I have you to point them out for me. A year now. Almost everyday for one whole year I've had to listen to your scorn. Your poison. You question almost every decision I make and I tolerated it and for what?" Bowman was keeping his cool with Dytto. On the contrary if he was angry at anyone he was angry at himself. "Because you were on this ship for four years before I stepped in and maybe I respected that. Maybe some part of me thought that you'll get over it? Hell you might even have proven useful to me. But my respect wasn't enough for you. You continued to sow poison into the crew. Then the Cylons attacked and I just had to accept I was stuck with you. But maybe that was a weakness on my part? My mistake. Just like the mistake to send those three young people to their deaths. Well I'm done with it. I'm done making mistakes." Bowman stood up and unclipped the Commander's pips from the neck of his uniform and placed them one at a time on the desk.

"What the frak are you doing now?" asked Dytto, his face one of complete shock and surprise. His assault had been cut down in the frist wave. Bowman hadn't even given him chance to build up the energy before he counter attacked. Dytto suddenly felt like he was on the defensive. "This isn't about me."

"Oh but it is" explained Bowman calmly. Bowman was the picture of control whereas Dytto was like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car. "You think you could do better don't you? Well here's your chance. Take them." Dytto's eyes fell upon the pips sitting on the desk. He was stunned. He was truly caught with his pants down. This was not what he expected, not at all and he didn't know how to react. "What's the matter?" asked Bowman noting Dytto's hesitance. "Got no guts? Are you a coward? Or have you let the bitterness consume you so much that it's all you have left?" Not even Bowman knew if he truly meant it. Even he admitted the idea of just relinquishing command of the Hermes over to someone else was a powerful one. Only a few who have ever commanded a Battlestar can ever understand the pressure that one comes under in such a role and in Bowman's case the situation was magnified many times over now that there was no longer a fleet or a command structure to fall back on. It was just him. But as he looked at who would be replacing him if he did step aside Bowman realised that Dytto would only lead the ship and the people on it to ruin. Bowman was not perfect. He knew that. But he also knew that every decision he had made came with consequences and lives were lost but the ship, and more importantly humanity, would go on. For all his dislike of Dytto he had to acknowledge that were it not for him standing there in front of him ready to spit his poison Bowman wouldn't have pulled himself out of his sudden descent into self doubt. Several seconds had passed and Dytto still stood there as if standing on the edge of a cliff afraid to move for fear of falling. Bowman reached down and picked up the pips. The window of opportunity had closed. Dytto had failed Bowman's test. He looked deep into Dytto's eyes as he spoke to him, "If you cant take command when its offered to you across a desk, how the frak do you expect to cope when I am killed or incapacitated and it is forced on you? You'll crumble." Bowman suddenly stood firm and to attention as he went on. "And as the commanding officer of the Battlestar Hermes in a time of war I cannot afford to allow that to happen. Colonel Caleb Dytto, I am hereby relieving you of duty until further notice. My reasons for this is that you are unfit to carry out your duties in an effective manner and to leave you in your current post any further would be an act of negligence on my part."

"Y-You cant do this!" gasped Dytto completely in disbelief.

"I can and I just have" chanted Bowman. In sheer panic Dytto dived over the table and grabbed Bowman by his shirt.

"You cant do this to me!" Dytto shrieked like a spoilt child.

"Colonel unhand me immediately!" ordered Bowman. Dytto ignored him.

"You son of a bitch! You never deserved this ship! I did! Me! Not you!" Bowman repeated his order to unhand him but the now hysterical Dytto continued onwards. Bowman was left with no choice. All the frustration and anger built up inside him suddenly travelled to his right arm and it thrust at Dytto's jaw with such force that Dytto's head seemed to whip to the right as he fell back and onto the floor.

Bowman's right hand immediately began to swell from the force of the impact. He was still standing there looking down at Dytto laying flat on his stomach barely moving. Bowman found himself fighting the urge to continue to beat Dytto until he was dead. The Gods surely knew he wanted to. But he was a better man than that and so he picked up the handset from the side of the wall just behind his desk and held it to his ear. It was not long before Burmeister's voice came through on the other side.

"CIC!" she announced.

"Captain, this is Commander Bowman. Have a Marine guard report to my office on the double!"

"Sir!" gasped Burmeister at the nature of the order. "Is there a -."

"Just do it Captain!" interjected Bowman not wanting to talk to her at this particular time about what had just transpired with Dytto. Bowman went on, "And have Major Adonia report to me!" There was a pause before Burmeister acknowledged her orders.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

The military side of the ship had been awash with rumours for almost thirty minutes. Burmeister waited for news as she continued to direct the CIC but you didn't have to be a good psychologist to figure out that her mind was elsewhere. Her expression was vague and her eyes were almost empty. She occasionally overheard the whispers of some of the crew but tried not to listen as best she could but the information still managed to sneak in somehow and play with her own thoughts.

Suddenly Bowman marched in to the CIC followed quickly by Griffon who had a look shock on his face as if he suddenly found himself on a runaway train. No sooner had the two men entered the CIC that the whispers suddenly fell silent. After recieving a brief situation report from Burmeister, Commander Bowman confirmed he had command before moving to the Operations Desk and picking up the handset on the side. He selected loudspeaker and a klaxon sounded alerting everyone that he was about to address the ship.

"This is the Commander!" he said as his voice boomed over the ships loudspeaker.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES SICKBAY

Dytto sat on the edge of the bed as Devereaux worked on his broken jaw when Bowman's voice echoed through the room.

"A short while ago I was forced to relieve Colonel Caleb Dytto of his post as the Executive Officer of this ship. From this day forward Major Adonia will act as my new Executive Officer. A replacement CAG will be announced shortly. In the interim my orders stand. We are going to Scorpia. All departments prepare to jump!"

Bowman's voice died away leaving the crew to continue with their duties. The extremely sore Dytto felt dead inside. After he had finished his work Devereaux watched as the Marine guided Dytto out of the sickbay.

"Well this is interesting" he uttered to himself.


	15. Chapter 15

THE EREBUS BELT

Sitting over two light years from the colony of Scorpia is the Erebus Belt. Several thousand years ago a galactic catastrophe formed this belt when a planet was broken apart and splintered into a debris field. It is now a mass of rocks varying in size from small particles to some the size of a Battlestar all trapped in a gravitational flux holding it in its place. Its a good place to hide and as such has been used by smugglers and pirates for centuries. Prior to the attack on the colonies the Colonial Fleet always maintained a presence in the region to try to stem such illegal activities as well as get advanced warning of a possible Cylon attack but the truth was it would take an immense number of ships to patrol all of it. It was perfect for the Herme's needs and with a brilliant flash of light the scarred Battlestar jumped near the floating rocks.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Jump completed!" reported Burmeister.

"Report!" called out Major Alex 'Griffon' Adonia, the who had been the acting Executive Officer for two days since Dytto had been relieved of duty and confined to his quarters. The whole CIC crew worked their consoles checking the ship's numerous systems before all stations reported in that the condition was normal. Bowman looked up at the DRADIS screen hanging over the Operations Desk. The entire left side of the screen was covered in hundreds of blue dots as the signal returns of the DRADIS scanners painted a picture of just how dense the belt was in some places. Bowman knew that any good place to hide his ship was also a good place to be a victim of an ambush. He knew that while they sat here sending Raptors to Scorpia they were vulnerable themselves to a surprise attack. Before they had even made the jump here he had made the decision to resume Combat Air Patrols around the ship as a precautionary measure.

"Launch the CAP!" Bowman ordered.

"Aye sir!" replied Adonia who then picked up the handset to speak to the Hangar Deck. "Launch the CAP!"

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES STARBOARD LAUNCH TUBE No.3

'Hot Top' sat semi-patiently in her Viper Mark VII waiting for the order to launch. Staring down the launch tube she was itching to get back out into the 'black'. She lived for the freedom of flying solo in space. She was a natural born Viper jock not content with living on a Battlestar or even flying a 'clumsy' Raptor. The Viper was her 'angel wings' and she revelled in the experience of being free.

"Launch the CAP!" Adonia's voice rang in her headset. 'Hot Top' went through all her checks as she powered up the Viper's three engines. Signalling that she was ready the Launch Control Officer hooked up the 'Bear Trap' to the Viper's landing gear and confirmed a good seal. Hot Top checked everything one more time before signalling that she was still ready to go. With the final confirmation from 'Hot Top' the Launch Control Officer fired the catapult and the Viper Mark VII darted down the launch tube in just a two seconds. The G-forces of the launch would pin even the broadest of pilots to the seat. As the Viper left the tube 'Hot Top' felt the violent shuddering of the launch dissipate as suddenly as it had started. It was replaced by a smooth calmness as she was now free of the mothership.

Shortly after leaving the launch tube she pulled back on the controls and her thrusters responded by firing to bring the nose in line with Hermes' direction of flight and waited for the other five Vipers of this patrol to form up on her. Before long all five Vipers had launched successfully and formed a wide area protective screen around the stationary Hermes with their engines idling to conserve fuel. They could shut down their engines and just drift alongside but it would take upto six minutes to fire them up again and in that time one Raider could just wipe them all out.

When her team was in position Hot Top contacted the ship, "Hermes this is 'Hot Top!' CAP on station!"

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Sir?" said Adonia still holding the handset to the side of his head as he called for his Commander's attention. "The CAP is on station."

"Very good" acknowledged Bowman who turned to Captain Burmeister. "Captain!" Burmeister stood to attention at the sound of her name. "You may proceed!"

"Very well sir!" she acknowledged firmly. She saluted him and Bowman returned the compliment. As Chloe Burmeister turned to leave the CIC she could feel every eyeball in that room fixed firmly on her back as she walked away. For some it was the excitement of the possibly of resupplying the ship's stores and saw her as the tool of their salvation. Others looked upon her as if she were walking out to be executed for some crime she didn't commit. There was no guarantees with this mission, none whatsoever and those that looked her this way gave her enormous respect for her calm external appearance. But as Bowman's eyes fell upon her he felt enormous pity for her. He had probably spent more time with her the past year since taking command than anyone else, except for Dytto of course, and he had seen the change she had undertaken. He didn't see a young woman going to her death. In Bowman's eyes she was already dead She was a ghost trapped on our plane of existence. It was as if Hades told her there was no room for her in the underworld given that he was full up with all those who perished in the attack on the colonies. Just another victim to be mourned.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT LANDING DECK

Raptor Zero-Two-Niner glided off the deck lift after being raised into the cavernous Landing Deck from the Hangar Deck below. The tiny little ship, compared to Hermes anyway, made its way out into the eternal night carrying with it the hopes of almost five thousand people. Captain Chloe Burmeister took the ECO position in the rear compartment, a job not too dissimilar to her job in CIC. Sitting up front was 'Magma' who had volunteered for this mission. She was not Burmeister's first choice however. Chloe had always preferred flying with 'Stinger' but since he had taken over from 'Griffon' as the CAG 'Stinger' was now flying a desk. Sitting in the rear she eyed her pilot with some suspicion. The rumours that followed 'Magma' about the mysterious circumstances in which one of her fellow Raptor pilots died on an earlier mission haunted 'Magma' and infected all those around her with apprehension.

The Raptor was now out of Hermes' airspace and turned towards the debris field of the Erebus Belt. The belt was a good place for the Hermes to hide but it was marginally outside the range of the Raptor's FTL drive. Before it could jump to Scorpia the Raptor had to traverse half the debris field under sublight power. The Raptor could jump from here but would complete its jump in full view of the Cylon DRADIS. The aim was to use the Erebus Belt to conceal the initial jump into the atmosphere of Scorpia thus avoiding the DRADIS of any Baseships in orbit. Both occupants wore spacesuits and the cabin was unpressurised due to the risk of damage from debris. Before entering the belt Burmeister accessed the wireless system as she had been instructed to do so by Bowman.

"Hermes this is Raptor Zero-Two-Niner" she said. "Request permission to speak to Actual?" There was a short pause before the wireless crackled a response.

"Raptor Zero-Two-Niner this is Hermes-Actual. SITREP!"

"All systems are go, we are ready to proceed" replied Burmeister. "Any additional orders?"

"Just two" replied Bowman. "Firstly, come back!"

"Roger that Actual" said Burmeister in a tone that almost didn't seem to care one way or the other. "And the second?"

"I could murder a Jupiter-sized Aurora caramel bar!" Burmeister was caught totally off guard. For a second she made a mental note to get an Aurora caramel chocolate bar before realising that it was a joke. It was the first joke she had heard in almost a month. It was a simple gesture from Bowman but it somehow broke through the exterior defences she had put up for so long. 'Magma' had turned her head to look at Chloe in a questioning manner but instead saw, through Chloe's visor, her lips curling into a faint smile as she let everything go for just a second. Nothing. Absolutley nothing could have been more special to Chloe at that moment than just a simple joke from Bowman.

"Roger that Actual" she said softly as she secretly thanked Bowman. "I'll do my best."

"I know you will" replied Bowman. "Gods speed you on your journey."

The little ship left the safety and security of the Battlestar and its Vipers and proceeded through the Erebus Belt ajourney of some fourty five minutes. 'Magma' sat at the controls using her navigational DRADIS display to help guide her through. After twenty minutes of banking left and right through the debris an odd sensation lingered in Burmeister's stomach. It wasn't the hunger she had been getting used to. On the contrary she began to feel sick. Motion sickness was never something she had experienced before and she put it down stress having an unexpected effect on her body. The two of them said very little as they traversed the field except for operational purposes. As the ship found a clearing within the field Burmeister checked her navigational data and confirmed that Scorpia was now within range of the Raptor's FTL drive.

"Ok this will do" she said. "I'm logging the coordinates for a return jump. Spool up the FTL and jump when ready."

"Yes Captain" replied 'Magma'. "FTL ready."

"Here we go. Jump!"

* * *

CYLON BASESHIP  
MISSION: TRACK BATTLESTAR HERMES

Each of the seven models of Cylon stood around the centre console in their command room aboard the lead Cylon Baseship. Four Baseships had been tracking the Hermes since the Number Ones had submitted their plan for the Hermes. With their hands placed into the organic interface they each analysed the readings from their ships sensors and each came to the same conclusion but it was up to the Six to say it aloud.

"We've lost track of the Hermes." They each removed their hands from the gellatenous organic interface as they stood to consider their situation. The Number Eight added, "The crystaline deposits within the Erebus Belt are deflecting our DRADIS signals. We can't identify which is a rock and which is Hermes."

"This was to be expected" announced the Number One confidently. "We couldn't just let the Hermes waltz into Scorpia. They had to believe that they earned the right to step foot on that planet. Worry not my friends!"

"Even so" continued the Five. "We must locate them! I recommend scattering the fleet throughout the Erebus Belt and deploy our Raiders to find them."

"We must tread carefully in doing so" said the Number Two. "So as not to alert them to our presence."

"Agreed" added the Number One. "For the time being at least however there may be some value in cementing our deception by apparently stumbling upon the Hermes and then allow them to escape. We don't want them to get _too_ confident do we?" All agreed and they began their preperations. All except the Number Two known by some as Leoben Conoy. He felt there was some value in visiting the Baseship's hybrid. AHe couldn't explain why. It was as if she were calling to him through some secret signal that only he could hear. He found her in the very heart of the ship where she had always been. Ranting. Talking gibberish. Broken sentences. Some of it refered to the operation of the ship. But as for some of it? Nobody knew. They all had their theories. The Ones, Fours and Fives believed that the hybrid was exhibiting signs of mental instability that was being kept in check by the immense duty of keeping the ship functioning. Leoben on the other hand believed different. He kneeled down beside her and stared into her eyes that looked up as if she could see something that only she could see.

An Eight appeared at the doorway and gazed in at him. She watched him for a few moments before he became aware of her presence and he began to speak. "She is closer to God than all of us will ever be, Sister." The Eight slowly walked towards Leoben whose eyes never left the hybrid as she sat in the pool that linked her to the ship. "To know the face of God is to know madness" he continued. "And she knows that face. She sees it all the time. She sees it in this room right now. She sees it in the stars. It's all around us. She's trying to tell us. Listen!" The Eight kneeled down beside Leoben as she endulged in his request.

_Detecting abnormal nitrogen mix. Compensating. New line. The ground upon which he has built his house shall crumble. And when it falls he shall mark those inferior to his being as his own. Radiation levels normal. The vanquished shall hear the call of the messenger but the message has been confused and lost. Blood runs through the hall of the house of God and his most righteous shall declare themselves as he without just thought or heart. They shall be guided by a winged leader who will partner himself to the sheaved swords of his enemies who will then reveal the serpent within. _

_JUMP! _


	16. Chapter 16

CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES

Like a clasp of thunder and the flash of lightning the Raptor emerged from its jump into the grey rain filled skies of Scorpia and soared through the high mountain range in which it had appeared. Scopria was well know for its extreme terrain which made it a hot spot for thrill seekers across the twelve colonies of Kobol. Almost immediately the smooth ride of space was replaced by the turbulent force of an atmosphere that rocked the little ship as it continued to descend. Inside Burmeister and 'Magma' found themselves holding onto their seats as the violent shuddering made them feel like two peas in a pod in the middle of an earthquake. All around the cockpit an alarm wailed. 'Magma' silenced the alarm which was warning them that they were in close proximity to the ground. She pulled back on the controls and levelled the Raptor out.

"Ok" she said to Burmeister catching her breath. "We're in the playground!"

"Yep!" replied Burmeister as if this was news to her. "Checking navigational sensors! Magnetic and terrain readings indicate that we are about two miles south of where we should be. Thats not bad. It could have been far worse. You never know when jumping into an atmosphere."

"You're telling me?" added 'Magma'. "We could have come out inside that frakking mountain! So far so good huh?"

"Yea!" replied Burmeister as she clutched her stomach once more to fight off the feeling of impending vomiting_. Get a grip Chloe_ she told herself. This hunger was playing havoc with her system that was used to more calories a day than what she had been getting. She silently scorned her own gluttony and relatively carefree living she had before the attack on the colonies. Back then something so simple as going down to the local shop to buy something as basic as a loaf of bread now seemed like trying to walk across an ocean. "Ok we need to get organised" she said to 'Magma' although part of it was meant for her own sake. "We need to come left to a heading of Four-Five-Zero. There's a deep mountain range on that course that we can use to mask our approach from any surface based search DRADIS. We will just have to hope no Baseships in orbit spotted our FTL jump."

"Roger!" acknowledged 'Magma' as she put the Raptor into a sharp left bank.

* * *

Several hundred miles above them a Baseship was indeed lurking in orbit near the wreckage of the Scorpian Fleet Shipyards where five Battlestars met their end including the sister ship to Hermes, the Battlestar Jupiter. The Cylons onboard were analysing the readings from a routine scan they had just finished conducting. They had noticed a sudden electromagnetic burst concentrated into one area. Opinion was divided. It may very well have been an explosion from machinery that had continued working since the attack? Such explosions were still going on and so was nothing new. But others aboard the Baseship suspected it was a craft completing an FTL jump. Despite their interest they obeyed the standing order for them to not interfere.

* * *

'Magma' held her course through the mountain range whose peaks were now towering high above the Raptor. This was an unfamiliar and unnerving experience for her since like most Raptor pilots the bulk of her training was carried out in space. Visibility ahead was made worse by the heavy rainfall and low cloud cover. Fortunately the Raptor could travel at quite slow speeds if necessary since it relies on its vertical thrusters to keep it airborne. The 'wings' of the Raptor don't actually provide any lift but rather are used to carry external ordinance and fuel. Nevertheless the mountains had a habit of suddenly appearing out of nowhere which was now starting to rattle 'Magma's otherwise steady nerve.

"I'm going to have to use the IR scope!" she pleaded to her mission commander.

"No!" shot back Chloe. "The Cylons may detect the infra-red radiation. Same goes for DRADIS. You'll just have to make do with your standard issue Mark One Eyeball. Just keep us on this heading as best you can and keep us under the peaks!"

"Aye-aye Cap'n!" uttered 'Magma' sarcastically through gritted and frustrated teeth. As yet another mountain began to appear in front of them 'Magma' deliberately put the Raptor into a particularly sharp left turn. It wasn't necessary but the sound of Chloe grabbing hold of her console for stability certainly had a pleasing effect on 'Magma'. "What's the radiation levels like out there anyway?"

"Not great" replied Chloe checking the Raptor's passive sensors. "Fortunately the terrain is quite high above sea level and the nearest densely populated area is over seventy miles away. That's where the nukes probably hit. The valleys and mountains in this area have formed a natural barrier to the fallout. With that in mind however I suggest that when we get out of the Raptor we keep our suits on. We don't have the RADMEDS to spare and besides they only slow down the effects anyway."

"Well good thing this is just a recon then" said 'Magma'. "Don't fancy a radioactive shower today."

Navigating the mountain range had added time onto their journey. It was almost half an hour when the arrived at the mouth of the Serena Valley. It was approximately five and a half miles wide with two very steep sloping mountains on either side of it. Nestled at the base of the valley were several houses that made up a village. The valley was cut in half by a river that ran through the village.

The Raptor hovered close to the western wall of the valley in the hope of not attracting anyones attention by just barging in through the centre. Chloe got up out of her seat and leaned over the front seats to look out of the cockpit window.

"Well there's the village" she said. "Now that must be the industrial area there" she continued pointing at an outcrop of large warehouse type buildings on the outskirts of the northern side of the village. "Let's go! Carefully!"

"I'll keep us along the valley wall" said 'Magma'. "Hopefully the terrain will offer some kind of cover from our heat signature."

"Right!" said Chloe as the Raptor began to move like a predator cautiously stalking a herd of prey. "We are looking for an 'L' shaped building. That's what Devereux said."

"There!" yelled 'Magma'. Chloe looked over at where 'Magma' was pointing and saw at the end of her fingertips a large 'L' shaped building with a blue sign emblazoned across the front - Caprimart.

"Thats it!" exclaimed Chloe happily. "It looks relatively intact. No obvious damage."

"Yea but can we trust the food inside?" asked 'Magma'.

"Its a distribution warehouse. All the food had to be sealed for travelling through space since not all transport ships produce an atmosphere in their cargo bays. They ship it out from Caprica and put it here then trucks transport it by road to their stores. It should be fine. Let's make a low level photo run. Take us in!"

The Raptor began to seemingly glide down the hillside and over the village so low that its vertical thrusters damaged the rooftops of several houses. Chloe looked out at the township that passed beneath them. It was a scene of carnage and devastation typical of a ground engagement. Doors and windows were smashed open. Some of the houses had signs of being burned and several cars gave the appearance of being thrown against walls and trees like they were an angry child's toys. But Chloe noticed something unusual and the thought seemed to travel from her brain to her mouth without command. "There aren't any bodies?" 'Magma' didn't hear the comment but the thought weighed heavily on Chloe's mind for she grew up in a similar village back on Gemenon. She unexpectedly felt selfishness come over her. In the past month she had been so concerned about her work on Hermes and then whenever she had free moment her thoughts would fall upon her dead secret fiancee, Josh. She had not even considered the fate of her friends and family back home until she was confronted with it here. How? How did this happen? How could she have been so selfish? But then again what could she do anyway? It wouldn't change anything. Like Bowman had said to the crew not long after the attacks - the past is as it is. Our only priority now is the future. Put it behind you where it belongs and move on.

The Raptor passed over the river and crossed into the industrial area. The Caprimart buildng was the biggest complex there and 'Magma' circled around the car park at two hundred and fifty feet while Chloe took photos of the building using the Raptor's onboard camera. She studied the photos as they flashed on her screen. The building was perfectly intact and aside from a few damaged vehicles outside the scene was typical of many locations like this across twelve colonies, Caprimart being one of the biggest superstore companies prior to the attack. A lot of people were holding their hopes on the result of this mission and that thought weighed heavily on her mind. Right now she too was filled with hope. There was a potential to gather enough supplies from here to feed the five thousand people aboard Hermes for months, maybe even a year or two and like Bowman had said, what they really needed was a chance to catch their breath.

A thought soon fell into her head. She realised in that moment that she listened to Bowman more than she did to Caleb Dytto despite having known him since she was a little girl. Ever since Bowman had relieved Dytto from duty she had been quite cool to her Commanding Officer out of the habit of loyalty to Dytto but as she was here in the field and behind enemy lines she posed herself a question - _given the choice, who would I rather have here with me now? Caleb or Artimus Bowman? _Even though there was no one to hear her thoughts she felt guilty as she answered _Bowman._ She knew he had trust in her which was why he had chosen her for this mission. He had wanted someone who could think on their feet. Commanders like Bowman don't want robots or Cylons. They want those under their command to take the initiative to achieve their goals. An important aspect of any soldier, perhaps even more important than the ability to follow orders, is to be problem solvers and thinkers. The best soldiers have always been the ones who can achieve their goals without having the direct order from a superior. That's not always possible. And with that in mind she turned to 'Magma' and said "Take us down!"

'Magma' chuckled at the order. "I can't take us down any further. We'd land in the car park!"

"I know" said Chloe. 'Magma' turned to face her and saw the total seriousness written all over her face. She knew this was no joke.

"What?" she gasped! "Those aren't our orders! Our orders are to gather intelligence for future supply missions."

"And that's what we're doing. We are going to gather physical evidence so that the next mission isn't wasted on coming here and finding that the food is no good. We are going to look for confirmation. We..." Chloe chuckled to herself for a moment before continuing. "We are going to get Commander Bowman a Jupiter-sized Aurora bar!"


	17. Chapter 17

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
SERENA VALLEY, THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

The Raptor's vertical thrusters kicked up dust and debris as it came into land. 'Magma' landed the craft between two large cargo containers in an effort to conceal it from sight and once the skids made contact with the ground she powered down the main engines that provided power to the thrusters and the scream of the ship became little more than a gentle howl.

"Keep the engines idling!" said Burmeister. "We may need to get the frak out of here in a hurry and we won't have time to power them up again."

"Yes Captain" replied 'Magma' who was now not even trying to hide her disproval over this change to orders. 'Magma' began to move out of her seat to go into the rear of the cabin with Burmeister when Chloe put up her hand to signal her to stay.

"No!" she said. "You stay here with the ship and keep watch. If theres even an indication of Cylon activity your orders are to return to Hermes. I've already programmed the jump coordinates into the navigation computer. All you have to do is 'punch it!" 'Magma' listened closely as she watched Burmeister packing two extra clips for her sidearm into the pouches of her flight suit. This did not bode well with her. She felt like they were deviating from their orders and endangering the mission unnecessarily . A part of her began to weigh up her legal right within Colonial Fleet Law to relieve Burmeister of command over the mission. On the one hand she was endangering herself, 'Magma' and risking the loss of a vital piece of equipment - the Raptor, something that they had almost no hope of replacing. On the other hand a tribunal on the Hermes may find that Burmeister was well within her rights to order them to land afterall her and Bowman were quite close? 'Magma' began to ponder whether or not she would ever recieve a fair hearing if she did relieve Burmeister? There was no doubt in 'Magma's mind that she was right but the consequences of taking action hung over her like the God of Death was creeping up on her ready to take her soul to Hades. She hadn't survived this long by being stupid. As she came to her conclusion she simply acknowledged Burmeister as the door to the Raptor hissed upwards and open. Before stepping out into the truck yard Chloe turned back to 'Magma' and said, "If I'm not back in thirty minutes leave and return to Hermes! Clear?"

"As crystal" replied 'Magma' assuringly. Chloe turned away without any further words and stepped out of the Raptor. 'Magma' continued into the back of the Raptor and watched through the open hatch as Chloe cautiously made her way across the yard keeping close to the parked trailers that were waiting for trucks that will never come. As 'Magma' watched with interest a dark thought cropped into her head - _What right does she have to do this? This place is probably crawling with Cylons just waiting for us. She did say if there's any sign of trouble i should take off. No one would know. But wait! If she's still here when we come back she could tell them i just left her here. This is a major frak up just waiting to happen!_

Without even realising it 'Magma's right hand was hovering over her own sidearm as she watched Chloe moving ever closer to a fire exit door that was swinging back and fore on its hinges in the wind. _We're in enemy territory. No one would ever know. _She unclipped the top of her holster as she made the first physical move in the effort to end Burmeister's life and, in her mind, save her own. But at the last minute she stopped herself. _Damn it!_ She couldn't do it! She couldn't lose another partner on a mission. Especially at her own hands. As she watched Chloe disappear inside the building she returned to her pilot's seat cursing herself and Burmeister.

"Alright Captain" she uttered to herself. "You've got thirty minutes!"

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES  
THE EREBUS BELT

The Battlestar Hermes sat nestled between the debris that made up the Erebus Belt waiting for its Raptor to return like a worried mother standing in the doorway to her house calling out for her most mischievous child to come home for dinner. For now the only thing left for the Hermes to do was wait and be vigilant for Cylons. Circling around the mighty ship the CAP of Vipers kept a keen watch for even the slightest sign of trouble but their DRADIS scans returned only confused static at the best of times. That's the price you pay for a good hiding space. You could send out waves upon waves of DRADIS scans and get nothing back nor could you detect the signals from an opposing force due to the reflecting nature of the crystalline deposits within the debris.

Commander Artimus Bowman found himself wandering the maze of corridors of his ship. His first commanding officer, Commander Gates aboard the Battlestar Daedalus, frequently described a ship as a living organism and the corrdiors of the ship were like arteries sending blood i.e. people, to where its needed to keep the body fit and healthy. Bowman was pleased about having Gates as his first C.O. having read about him in his grandfather's journals about his experiences during the first Cylon War. Both Gates and Bowman's Grandfather, Reginald Bowman, served as part of the elite Combat Search and Rescue unit stationed aboard the Battlestar Columbia. The two of them were off that ship rescuing a Viper pilot when it was destroyed during Operation Raptor Talon. Later that same day Bowman's grandfather and Gates rescued another Viper pilot called William Adama.

Bowman's train of thought was very suddenly interrupted by a high speed impact and a blizzard of paper as the young woman seemed to ricochet off the broadly built Commander and landed down on the floor. The shocked Bowman looked down at the floor to see just what it was that had hit him. A young blond woman wearing a flight suit with a solitary Raptor patch on the right arm was scurrying on the floor trying desperately to apologise while pick up her papers at the same time. Bowman leaned down to help her and as she raised her head she saw that it was one of the civilians who had been recruited into the air wing.

"Here, let me help you" he said softly to her.

"Thank you sir" she replied. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

"That's quite alright...Lieutenant? asked Bowman.

"Oh its not Lieutenant" stuttered the young woman. "My name is Melissa, Melissa Saunders. They call me Aurora...Which is kind of ironic."

"Oh!" said Bowman handing her the last piece of paper that she had dropped which he recognised as the copied carcass of a Raptor training manual. "How come?"

"Oh uh, I've never really been a morning person" she explained giggling slightly in nervous embarrassment and disbelief that of all five thousand plus people on the ship the one person she had barged into was the CO. Something happened to Bowman at that moment. Something he had no control over. It was an odd experience he had thought he'd forgotten in the hell that had befallen him and his ship. He began to genuinely smile at the innocence that was coming from the young woman. As the two of them stood there in the middle of the corridor Bowman realised that it was the first positive emotion he had experienced in nearly a month!

"So you haven't been made a Lieutenant yet?" he asked almost off handedly.

"No sir" she replied. "But I've flown three missions now. Well...supervised training missions anyway. And I was on the mission that went to the Hellenic Traveller."

"I see" said Bowman. "Walk with me a minute would you Aurora?" Melissa knew she had to report to Stinger for her next briefing but she also knew that when your CO asked you to do something there was no getting out of it and she agreed. She sorted her mess of papers into something that vaguely resembled an order and began walking with Bowman although she didn't know where and why? "I was wondering if you could enlighten me on a few things thats happening on my ship. I think you would be the ideal person since you've had your hand in both the civilian and military sides."

"Of course sir" she replied feeling both complimented and at the same time a little out of place. "What would you like to know?"

"I'm not sure exactly. I just want to know how things are? Being in CIC most of the day keeps me out of touch with everything else" said Bowman truthfully.

"W-ell sir" stuttered Melissa as she searched for the words in the back of her head. "The slum is..." Melissa's mind recalled the scene of the little girl with a dirty face eating a bowl of porridge. Bowman listened with great interest as Melissa spoke and felt a deep regret, almost guilty feeling over the situation in the former Marine Barracks. His rational brain argued that there was nothing more that he could do and was doing everything he could to make things better but his heart argued that he wasn't doing enough. It was a silly train of thought after all what esle could he have done? But being the Commander meant that he seemed to absorb all the responisbility for evry single action onboard his ship. "Sir, the slum is a nightmare." Despite her hesitance she had broken through her self retraint and decided that honesty was the best policy. "People are crammed in there like cattle. Its dirty and crowded. It's-It's just horrible. And the worst part is everyone expects to be dead soon. They have very little to do except sit around and wait for their next few bits of food and try to look after what little stuff they have left in case someone tries to steal it." The thought of life back in the slum made Melissa cringe with both disgust and guilty self-loathing now that she was out of there.

"There's not much we can do about it at the moment" said Bowman to her although he knew that part of it was meant for him in an effort to try and ease his own guilt about it. "Space is limited. We just have to make do with what we're given." Melissa simply listened as they rounded a corner and she saw that they were walking into Bowman's office. He held the door open for her before he took his seat behind his desk. Melissa stood in front of the desk unsure about what to do next. Military formalities were still quite confusing to her. She watched him pick up the telephone handset off his desk and speak into it, "Combat, Bowman. Please have Major Adonia join me in my office. Thank you!" He put the handset down and took out a very small key from his pocket. "And what about the military side?" he asked as he leaned down and opened the top drawer with the key.

"Well sir" she said almost uttering the words. "Everyone is taking it differently. Most of the pilots are a little happier that they are getting to fly but everywhere you go there's just this strange feeling. It's kind of hard to explain. It's like there's some force controlling our destiny. It's like we aren't in control any-" Melissa stopped talking as she saw that Bowman was no longer listening. He sat in his chair holding a photograph in his right hand that he had removed from the drawer and was touching the glass ever so softly with his fingertips. Suddenly he realised that Melissa wasn't speaking anymore and he looked up at her feeling compelled to offer an explanation. He tilted the picture to the side for her to see the image of the attractive woman in her late twenties with dark auburn hair.

"Is that your daughter sir?" she asked him nervously. Bowman smiled as if he had been told a joke.

"You'd be amazed at how often I used to get that" he explained. "No Aurora she is my wife." Melissa couldn't help but be taken back by the fact that Bowman's wife appeared to be much younger than he was. She listened intently as Bowman went on. "There was some controversy, shall we say, when we announced that we were getting married. Not just from her family but from my own as well. She's ten years younger than I am."

"Well that shouldn't really be a problem" said Melissa like a trainee guidance counsellor.

"It wasn't for us" he continued. "Just everyone else. We've been married for three years now. The last time I talked to her she was in Caprica City taking part in the eacher's strike."

"She was a teacher?"

"Yes, third grade. She was so passionate about her job" said Bowman as Major Adonia appeared in the doorway.

"You wanted to see me sir?" asked Adonia.

"Yes Griffon" said Bowman snapping out of his hypnotic glare into the photo. He quickly placed it back in the drawer and reached in for a rolled up scroll that he was originally looking for before being confronted with the image of his wife, an image he was trying to put behind him. "Please come in and witness this!" Adonia stood next Melissa as Bowman got up off his chair and held open the scroll. Guessing what was coming Adonia took the Raptor manual fragments from Melissa and placed them down on Bowman's desk. Bowman looked into her eyes before reading out the writing on the scroll.

"Please raise your right hand and repeat after me..."

On that day Melissa Ann Saunders became Lieutenant Melissa "Aurora" Saunders, an Raptor ECMO aboard the Battlestar Hermes.


	18. Chapter 18

* * *

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
SERENA VALLEY, THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

Chloe Burmeister cautiously made her way through the main warehouse. It was stacked with several tiers of cargo containers like the ones she had seen aboard the Hellenic Traveller over a week ago. Best of all they nearly all had green tags attached to them which meant they were carrying organic foodstuffs. Inside these boxes the supplies were kept safe from the elements and were still in perfect shape. Given the immense volume of the warehouse Chloe surmised that there must have been over a thousand cargo containers in this one building alone.

With her sidearm drawn and held firmly out in front of her she cautiosly made her way through the 'valleys' formed by the stacking of the crates, she wasn't taking any chances. Before she left the cover of one row of containers she had to very physically move her head from side to side to check for any signs of Cylons since the helmet she was wearing severely hindered her peripheral vision. Another more serious problem however was that with the helmet on she couldn't hear anything at all and so she was constantly looking back to check for pursuit. Even though the local radiation was tolerable for a short period of time Chloe's training made her take the correct attitude of no exposure is better than a little. When she was sure it was clear she darted behind the next row of containers and continued onward memorising as much of the warehouse layout as possible. She took up position beside a forklift truck and assessed the northern part of the warehouse. There was a wide open space where the forklifts worked to load up the trucks parked against the loading bays along the wall. Figuring that there was no sense exposing herself by going any further since there seemed to be very little of importance in that area she turned back towards the way she had come.

There was a loud craking sound in her helmet as something very hard swung across and hit it with incredible force throwing her to the ground, her sidearm falling from her right hand. Winded, she struggled to make sense of what was going on but all she could see as she lay there on the floor was the blurry image of a pair of black boots through her cracked visor standing beside her. The boots took several steps towards her and she clearly heard what sounded like a metal pipe falling on the floor.

* * *

'Magma' seemed to rock nervously sitting in the cockpit of the Raptor, her hands running up and down the length of her thighs purely for the purpose of giving them something to do. She was getting more and more agitated by the minute and her eyes were running the length and breadth of the truck yard in a paranoid fashion. Sitting there on the ground she had never felt so vulnerable in all her life. If it were humans they were fighting that would be something. Humans have emotion and flaws like her but these Cylons were just machines. They have no emotion, no flaws, no anxiety when going into battle. They are just machines and that was something that truly scared 'Magma'. She looked down at her watch. Incredibly only eighteen minutes had passed since Burmeister had gone inside.

"Oh Gods!" she gasped at the realisation that it had only been a little over quarter of an hour since landing. To 'Magma' it felt like it had been a year. "Come on Captain, get out of there!" she uttered to herself. "Damn it where are you?"

* * *

Chloe struggled to focus still dazed from the force of the impact. She rolled onto her right side and pushed down on the ground in an effort to lift herself up but suddenly she felt her left arm being kicked viciously and she fell back down onto the ground before rolling onto her back.

"Stay down skinjob or I'll blow your frakking head off!" screamed a voice that Chloe could now hear through the hole in her cracked visor. "I mean it!" Chloe could clearly make out that it was a woman's voice with a distinct accent. Still dazed from the impact it took her a few moments to register what was going on. She looked up and saw the outline of person standing over her and recognised the barrel of her own sidearm staring back at her shaking in the hands of its frightened holder. As her eyes finished recovering she saw that the woman was heavily covered in layers of clothes that covered every part of her body in an effort to create a makeshift protective suit. A thick woollen hunting shirt was wrapped around her head and face and her eyes were staring out of what looked like a pair of safety goggles from a high school science class. Under any other circumstances it would look quite comical but right now Chloe wasn't laughing as she realised she was dealing with a survivor of the holocaust wrought upon mankind. "Where are your Centurians?" demanded the woman threateningly.

"What...What Centurians?" stuttered Chloe as she attempted to nurse an approaching headache with her fingertips through the side of her helmet.

"Your Centurians! Where are they? You skinjobs never go far without your bulletheads so come one! Where are they?"

Chloe looked up at the figure that had attacked her. The gun was still shaking in her hands and Chloe knew she had to be careful about what she said. People who are in this state aren't thinking rational. Her mind cast back to her training. She knew that she had to portray herself as being cooperative but confident. The result should be that the hostage taker may come to see his/her hostage as more of an asset than a problem since their desperate mind seeks calmness. Positive reinforcement at its pinnacle. Chloe took a deep breath before speaking.

"Look" she said. "My name is Chloe Burmeister. I'm from the Battlestar Hermes. We have come her-"

"That's impossible!" yelled the woman. "The whole fleet is gone! There are no Battlestars left!"

"I'm afraid you're wrong on at least two accounts that we know of" said Burmeister referring to Hermes and Pegasus. "We are here on a salvage mission. Now, if you give me the gun down, I promise I will take you back to my ship with me. If not, then you might as well shoot me because in a few minutes my Raptor pilot is going to assume I'm dead and leave without me." As she spoke the words it came as a terrible surprise to Chloe that she knew, deep down, she really meant it. How did this happen? She could remember a time she was so full of life and yet here she was in immediate mortal danger and she didn't seem to care unlike her hostage taker.

"How do I know this isn't some sort of trick? How do I know your not a skinjob?" blurted the desperate woman.

"Listen to me!" said Chloe giving off an air of confidence as she spoke. "I have no idea what a...skinjob is? But if you want proof that I really am from the Colonial Fleet then stick your head out the door and look at the Raptor sitting in the car park. If we go now we might just make it in time to see it take off without us!" Chloe's dry wit wasn't meant to be amusing but rather it was intended to reinforce the urgency of her situation. She picked herself up from the floor and watched her hostage taker's actions as she did. The hostage taker nervously stepped backwards away from Chloe, her gun still pointing at the Captain. Chloe assessed the situation during the whole movement. If she hadn't believed her story then no doubt Chloe would be dead now. Even though Chloe didn't have the gun she knew that she was in a good position of influence over her hostage taker. She stood as firmly in front of her as she could and looked into the terrified eyes that lay behind the goggles. "I give you my word, as an officer in the Colonial Fleet, if you come with me and give me that gun I promise I will take you back to the Hermes with me. What do you say?" The woman stayed quiet unsure what to do. Chloe knew she had only a few precious minutes left before 'Magma' would take off. She knew that if 'Magma' returned solo then they would assume Cylons were occupying the area and would thus stay away from this 'goldmine' of supplies. She honestly didn't care whether or not the woman killed her but she did seem to care about completing her mission. She cared about it very much! Bowman was counting on her and the thought of letting him down did not bode well with her at all. The precious seconds continued to tick away and she knew she had to act. She turned towards the direction of the door she had entered in that would lead to where the Raptor was waiting and began to walk towards it.

"Stop!" screamed the woman keeping the gun firmly on Chloe. Chloe turned to her and said "If you're going to shoot me then do it! Otherwise I'm getting on that Raptor and reporting back to my ship. So what's it going to be?" Chloe waited a few moments for an answer that didn't come and so she turned away and carried on towards the door. After a few more paces Chloe turned back and indicated for the woman to follow. Reluctantly she did indeed start to follow Burmeister. The two of them made their way quickly, just short of running, to the door with the woman keeping the gun on Chloe at all times. Before reaching the door something caughtChloe's eye and it brought her to a shuddering hault.

"What?" gasped the near hysterical woman. "What? What is it?"

Chloe smiled to herself as she reached down and lifted up a piece of zinc sheeting that was covering a brightly coloured box. Emblazoned across the happy looking box was a logo that she recognised.

"What are you doing?" pleaded the woman. "They're just Aurora bars!"

"I'm following orders" joked Chloe as she picked up the box and continued towards the door.

* * *

'Magma' was on the verge of having a breakdown. It was less than two minutes to go before the thirty minutes was up and there was still no sign of Burmeister. Since she had considered taking an almost unthinkable action against Burmeister a counter thought was now playing on her mind. What if she returns to Hermes now and everyone thinks that she did kill Burmeister? It was a position born out of the guilt of what she had contemplated earlier. She looked down at her watch for what seemed like the one thousandth time and saw less than eighty seconds remained. She then glanced back over to the door anxious for Burmeister to appear. She didn't have to wait long as the Captain soon appeared and 'Magma' breathed a sigh of relief. But then 'Magma's heart seemed to recieve an electric shock as she saw a figure appear behind Burmeister holding a gun to her. 'Magma' reached down and took out her own sidearm and then rushed to the hatch.

As Burmeister saw 'Magma' appear in the open hatch with her gun she knew she had to act quickly to avoid bloodshed. Momentarily distracted by 'Magma's appearance the hostage taker failed to notice Burmeister, with lightning speed, push down on the gun with her right hand before thrusting her elbow into the woman's head with such force that the stunned woman fell back. Chloe held onto the gun as best she could and pried it out of her hands as the woman fell. The woman fell onto her back and looked up at Burmeister expecting to be shot. Instead she saw Burmeister put the gun into her holster and offer her hand to help the woman up off the floor.

"Come on!" pleaded Burmeister. "I meant what I said. There is a Battlestar waiting for us to return and you are welcome to come along." Still somewhat unsure the woman nevertheless accepted Burmeister's hand and Chloe helped her to her feet before picking up the box of chocolate bars that had fallen on the floor in the commotion. "Now quickly! Let's go!"

The two of them made their way to the Raptor and Burmiester signalled 'Magma' to holster her weapon since 'Magma', still wearing her own undamaged helmet, wouldn't be able to hear her and any use of the short range personal wireless might give their position away. With the hatch sealed, trapping a small pocket of air inside for them to breath for a short while, Chloe accessed the ship's environmental controls and began to produce an artificial atmosphere inside the little ship since her suit was damaged and there wasn't one available for the survivor. With the atmosphere now breathable both 'Magma' and Chloe removed their helmets, there was not much point for Chloe to keep hers on anyway thanks to the crack that was now in the visor.

"Who's this?" asked 'Magma'.

"Don't worry about that, just get us off the ground!" ordered Burmeister. The Raptor's vertical thrusters fired and the ship lifted up off the ground. Ten feet! Twenty feet! Thirty feet!

"Spooling FTL!" said 'Magma'. "Beginning ascent!"

"No!" shot Chloe. "Do it here!" 'Magma' momentarily looked back in a quizzing glance before following the order. Just thirty feet off the ground the Raptor engaged it's Faster Than Light drive and was engulfed in a flash of light as the vessel jumped away leaving a vacum that was quickly filled by rushing air signalled by the dull rumble of what sounded like thunder. The air that was rushing to flll the vacum dragged up dirt and debris kicking it along the truck yard. Burmeister had made the right decision. To go any higher would risk detection. She didn't want to take any chances.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES  
THE EREBUS BELT  
VIPER COMBAT AIR PATROL

"'Hot Top' this is 'Slammer'. I got something on DRADIS. One-Seven-Five carom Two-Two-Eight." 'Slammer' sat with his eyes ransfixed to the DRADIS screen in his Viper's cockpit. The returns were confused and distorted thanks to the debris in the belt but he was certain he had a strong contact on his screen momentarily.

"How can you see anything in all this soup?" asked 'Hot Top's distorted voice over the wireless.

"I definitely had something I'm sure of it" he replied as he released the safeties on his weapons. "There it is again! Definite contact! 'Slammer' committing! I'm going hot!" 'Slammer' threw his Viper Mark VII into a hard left bank and opened the throttle on his engines which sent him darting towards the debris field. The closer to the individual debris the less interference since the belt's crystaline deposits had a cumulative effect on screwing up DRADIS. 'Slammer' had enough DRADIS returns to navigate through the debris to and possibly identify whatever it was he was detecting.

"'Slammer' this is 'Hot Top'. I'm on your six. I got your back. Just remember to make visual first, it could be our Raptor."

"Roger that!" replied 'Slammer' mildly insulted as though 'Hot Top' thought he was some sort of nugget. The positive DRADIS return appeared again and 'Slammer' swung his Viper into an intercept vector. "I got him, he's right ahead!" As 'Slammer' closed in he squinted as the target came into visual range. He could see the target was small and had formation lights on(!) as it passed alongside an enormous piece of planetoid about twice the size of Hermes. He soon idenitifed it. "It's them! It's our Raptor!" he called out over the wireless.

"Well who were you expecting?" joked 'Magma's voice in reply. 'Slammer's jubilation quickly disappeared as his traning kicked in. He knew not to accept them at face value. He had to get proper identification. He looked down at his Identification-Friend-Foe (IFF) panel and saw that the Raptor was transmtting the proper Colonial transponder signal. There was just one more thing to check. "Magma'! What was your first car?"

"A crappy red and white Perrenial" replied 'Magma'. That was the safety code they had prepared before the start of their mission to insure that it was really them and not Cylon infiltrators.

"Those are some some bad wheels!" laughed 'Hot Top' over the wireless. 'Slammer' and 'Hot Top' pulled up alongside the Raptor and escorted it back to the awaiting Battlestar.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK

Chief Imlay watched as the returning Raptor was towed off the flightline and into its parking bay. A radiation assessment team was already in place to test the occupants and the Raptor's interior to assess if there was a risk from the vessel. The two white protection suited indviduals went inside and scanned everything and every one before reappearing at the hatch and giving the thumbs up to Imlay. They were ok.

"Ok let's check this bird over!" yelled Imlay to his Knuckledraggers as he walked towards the Raptor to hand his post-flight forms to 'Magma' who was now clambering down the side of the Raptor's port wing. "Here you go Lieutenant. Find anything interesting...Or at the least edible?"

"Interesting-yes! Whether you want to eat it or not depends on you!" joked 'Magma' indicating to the mysterious woman who had just appeared in the hatch and whom was no longer wearing the rolled up jacket around her face. Stunned, Imlay walked over to the Raptor to help the woman down.

"Here!" he said offering his hand as the woman jumped down off the Colonial vessel and stood next to him for a minute.

"My God's!" she gasped in amazement as she looked all around her at the Hangar Deck of the Battlestar. "It's true. It's all true!"

"Yes it is. My name's Chief Imlay. I'm the Deck Chief aboard Hermes. And you are?"

"Oh!" she stuttered in delight before shaking his hand. " My name's D'Anna. D'anna Biers!"


	19. Chapter 19

BATTLESTAR HERMES  
CALEB DYTTO'S QUARTERS  
28 DAYS SINCE THE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

"Great!" grumbled Dytto laying on his bunk. "That's just what this ship needs. Another frakking mouth to feed!" Chloe Burmeister sat on a small chair beside the Colonel's bunk. Ever since he was relieved of his duties he had been confined to quarters and Chloe knew that all this was achieving as far as he was concerned was to build up the bile and hatred inside him now that he had no way to vent it anymore.

"I couldn't just leave her there" she explained feeling as though she had to justify her decision to bring her aboard. "Besides, I thought that given she's been on the ground for so long she could prove a valuable source of intelligence for us."

"Oh yea?" he sniggered. "Who's going to be conducting her debriefing? You?"

"Major Adonia" explained Chloe.

"Major?" exclaimed Dytto. "You mean Bowman hasn't made Griffon a Colonel yet?"

"Not as yet, no" said Chloe somewhat surprised that it seemed important to Dytto what rank his replacement held. Dytto chuckled menacingly as if to say 'I told you so'. Chloe didn't take it so lightly however in fact some of Dytto's poison seemed to be reflecting off her and back towards him. "What's so funny?" she sniped.

"That's just so Bowman" he said glaring at her. "Just leaves things be for too long. Likes the status quo. Hates change! And this is the man leading us to...Wherever the hell he's taking us."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it" said Chloe hinting that it was a very narrow minded viewpoint.

"Well what else is there?" chuckled Dytto at her apparent naive outlook regarding the CO. Chloe didn't answer. It was not that she agreed with him. Far from it in fact. Nor was she so angry at him that she couldn't think straight. Instead she looked on at the man she had known like an uncle for as long as she could remember with angry and pityful eyes.

"Forget it!" she said getting up, not wanting to stay with him any longer.

"Where are you going?" he called after her.

"I don't feel too good all of a sudden" she spat back at him.

"Oh of course!" he said sitting up as she left. "I forgot. You're Bowman's favourite pet these days aren't you Captain! Adonia don't get Colonel bars but you get promoted! Hey, Chloe, do you think you could use that influence to get him to turn the water back on in here? I' m so sick of dry shaving. Plays hell with my face."

Chloe had the hatch half way open when Dytto had gone too far in her mind. She slammed it shut angrily and turned to face him sitting there with glee filled eyes, happy hat he had provoked her and this only served to fuel the fire that was building inside her.

"Do you know" she said with a sorrow filled voice, "I used to look up to you. I used to think that you and my father could do anyhing. But now I look at you and do you know what I see? A bitter, twisted old man who is so full of poison and self loathing that you can't see that people have given you chance after chance and all you do is screw it up! Even now!"

"What the frak are you talking about?" groaned Dytto.

"Look where you are! Look at these quarters! These should be Adonia's now but no, he left you here to give you a chance to sort yourself out and once again you're screwing it up! Adonia is acting XO and that should tell you something. For all that you've done Bowman still sees something in you. Something that no one else does anymore. Not even me! He is giving you this one last chance to pull yourself together because in the end we are all that's left. Now you can either bury this hatred that you seem so desperate to hold on to or you can just pack your bags, walk down the corridor and find yourself a bunk in the slum! To be perfectly honest I don't give a frak about you or anything anymore so you can go and kill yourself for all I care!"

The tears were streaming down Burmeister's face. She seemed to rip the hatch open and slam it shut behind her leaving Dytto alone in the cold. Moving down the corridor she was awash with emotion. She felt her world spinning uncontrollably. The pit of her stomach seemed to summersault as the nausea she had experienced on the Raptor came flowing to the surface. She slumped into a corner as a Marine rushed to help. She held out her hand to keep him back as she vomited onto the floor. Once she was finished the Marine helped her to her feet and took her to sickbay.

* * *

D'Anna Biers lay back on the bed in sickbay that had been set aside for her as she recieved her anti-radiation treatment. An Intravenous drip had been set up and was filling her veins with the vital medicine any human would need to survive after prolonged exposure to doses of radiation. But of course D'Anna didn't really need the treatment at all for she wasn't human. She was a Cylon. A Number Three to be exact and her treatment was merely an effort to maintain the illusion that she was human. Deveroux pulled the curtain back and stepped upto her bed with Nurse Taylor beside him. She handed him a chart and D'Anna watched as he read from it before passing it back.

"Well!" he said in his usual coarse tone. "You'll be glad to know you're responding well to the treatment. Fortunately you've managed to escape the bulk of the fall out from the bombing and I don't anticipate any further problems in the short term but obviously over time we will need to keep an eye on you for the development of Cancer."

"I understand, Doctor" said D'Anna moving herself up the bed to sit upright. Deveroux turned to Nurse Taylor and said, "I think we will keep her in sickbay for at least one more treatment and then we will release her to Bowman for debriefing."

"Debriefing?" asked D'Anna as Nurse Taylor turned away. "What for?"

"Well...You've been down on Scorpia since the start of the war and they'll probably want to know everything you know about the situation down there."

"I'll be glad to tell them everything I know but I'm afraid it's not much. I only spent a short time with the resistance" she explained as she looked over Deveroux's shoulder to check that the Nurse was out of earshot. "You've adapted to your role quite well brother. I'm sure the Fours would be impressed."

"Well it was necessary" he explained in a subdued voice pretending to conduct additional examinations. "It was the best way to keep me out of that flea ridden pit of what they're calling the slum although that hardly does it justice. And it also keeps me in the loop with the command staff. Fortuantely I recieved a download of basic skills from the Simons just prior to being discovered by these people when I was still aboard that civilian transport. Although at one point I thought the Pegasus was going to finish us all off and maybe I'd get a nice little place back home. You are aware of your role in all of this?"

"Of course Brother," she said smiling before Nurse Taylor returned.

"Well then!" announced Deveroux loud enough for Taylor to hear. "You're doing just fine Miss Biers so I will leave you in the capable hands of Nurse Taylor. Unfortunately I have other patients."

"Of course. Thank you Doctor."

Deveroux turned around and started to walk back to his office when he suddenly saw Chloe being lead in by a Marine Corporal. Her face was filled with disgust as the taste had not yet left her mouth.

"Well" he said. "What's going on here then?"

"I'm just feeling a little under the weather that's all Doctor" explained Chloe as he lead her toward a bed.

"Well I can see that. What's the problem?" grumbled Deveroux. "Have you been sick?"

"Yep" she said as she held her stomach in anticipation of a second wave at the thought of it. "The evidence is outside Colonel Dytto's quarters."

"I see" chuckled Deveroux. "Isn't he changing his socks as often as he's suppose to?" The joke met only a cold glare from Chloe who thought it even more confusing that one minute she was openly attacking Dytto and the next she was defending him. "Well why don't you just pop yourself up here and we will take a look. Thank you Corporal!" he said dismissing the Marine who then turned away and walked out leaving them be. Chloe couldn't stand being in the same room as Deveroux let alone be examined by him but she hated feeling like this and would be happy to just get it sorted and out of the way. At first she assumed it was the onset of radiation sickness from when her helmet was broken on Scorpia but then she realised that she hadn't been quite right for a week or two now. She knew she should have seen Deveroux sooner after all the dangers of infection and disease aboard Hermes, now of all times, was too terrible to comprehend but for some reason she had kept herself from going to sickbay. She sat on the bed and as she started to unbutton her shirt for him to hear her breathing through his stethoscope she suddenly stopped as if she had realised she had forgotten something before tugging on her jacket almost afraid to let him go near her.

"Something wrong?" he asked slightly taken back by her sudden hesitance. "I can assure you I'm no peeping Tom. Oh! Of course. I'm sorry. I forgot that you're Gemonese. Not a problem. I'll get a female nurse to examine you."

"No!" she shot almost desperately. Deveroux stood aghast at Burmeister's refusal to take her shirt off in front of him or even a female nurse. Secretly he was feeding off the pain that was emanating from her, almost enjoying it in a manner he assumed any human might consider to be sick. His curiosity was now consuming him and he had to push further into why she was like this with him. He stared at her accusingly, making her feel guilty at not confiding in him. She hated his eyes on her and in her mind she started to convince herself that the only way to get through this was to remove her shirt. Deveroux pulled the curtain around the bed as she finished unbuttoning her shirt. She took a deep cleansing breath before removing her arms from the sleeves so that she sat there in just her tank top.

Deveroux feigned shock at the cuts that adorned the top of her arms just below the shoulder but secretly he thought it highly amusing to imagine the young woman sitting there with a knife cutting herself; Humans are so weak!

"You did this?" he asked knowing full well the answer. Chloe refused to answer him or even make eye contact. Given the knowledge he had inherited from the Cylon models called Simon he knew that there was no point pushing any further no matter how much his morbid curiosity wanted to. He simply sighed and said "You've probably developed an infection. I'll run a few tests to be sure. Please give me your arm!" Deveroux took some blood samples from her and took them to his laboratory. He allowed Chloe to wait on the bed for him to return. It was well over two hours later that he reappeared with a clip board in hand.

She looked up at him with eyes reminiscent of a naughty child who feels bad at causing probems for her parents one day in school. Deveroux just seemed to blurt out the results of the test knowing full well that Nurse Taylor was nearby.

"You're pregnant!"


	20. Chapter 20

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Bowman stood next to Griffon, his acting XO, at the plan they had devised. It was messy but it was all they could achieve with the means at their disposal. The operation called for an initial ground team of Marines to be put on Scorpia with the first Raptor team to secure the site as well as act as an Observation Post to insure that the Cylons weren't setting an ambush for the next team. A conveyor belt of Raptors would then have to traverse the Erebus Belt in groups of three since that was the most they could put on the ground outside the distribution centre.

Bowman looked over the plan at least twice more after already giving it the go ahead. He didn't like it messy and to him this was stretching it to say the least but he didn't have the luxury of playing it safe as he had in peacetime or even if there was a fleet backing him up. The truth was they were alone and with limited resources but the words of a former Commander of his, Scott Tolan rang in his head; if you don't have a hammer then you use a rock. He had heard those words from Tolan during an operation he had undertook with him some six years prior to the war when the niece of President Adar had been kidnapped.

"How soon until 'Stinger' can begin sending down the first team?" he asked Griffon.

"They're being briefed as we speak" replied Griffon. "Deveroux has said that Miss Biers will be be fit for interviewing in about another hour." Bowman had authorised the plan but was holding back on sending the first team down until they had debriefed Miss Biers. He wanted to know everything that she knew regarding the surrounding area and Cylon movements. Bowman nodded in acknowledgement as the corner of his eye saw that the familiar sight of Captain Chloe Burmeister was not at her station which was instead being covered by a young Petty Officer named Dayton. That's ok he thought. She had more than earned a little rest after that mission. He turned back to Griffon as a thought occured to him.

"We may be here for a while" he said. "I don't want the Cylons to just stumble upon us without prior warning. With our entire Raptor force committed to resupply I want 'Stinger' to start sending out Vipers on recon through the belt. Have them maintain radio silence at all times. They should also begin scouting for new jump locations for the Raptors and Hermes in case we have to relocate at short notice."

"Aye sir!" replied Griffon as he lifted the handset to make it happen. Bowman had been watching 'Griffon's' progress as he had taken the role of XO. He was perfectly competent in the position and quite a pleasure to work with but for some reason Bowman felt that he lacked the fire of a good XO. The crew saw him more as a friend than an ogre to be avoided on the way to the CO. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing since everyone has their own style but the one thing he always had to credit Dytto for was that Dytto had the ability to put the fear of the Gods into the subordinates and keep them on their toes as such. Bowman decided to see how he would pan out over the coming days. Maybe that fire would start soon?

* * *

Chloe was on the port side hangar pod staring out of the the observation window onto the landing deck as the CAP returned after having been relieved by the next team. She leaned against the transparent alloy window that was several inches in diameter and looked up at the charred wreckage of the Traffic Control Centre (TCC) that hung from the cavernous roof. That was where her secret fiancee Joshua Albert had died. She placed her hand on her stomach as a tear ran down her cheek as she silently begged the Gods to bring him back. It didn't seem real to her. Like it was all some cruel joke. There's been a mistake surely. How can he be dead? How...

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE  
3 DAYS SINCE THE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

"Action stations!" Caleb Dytto's voice boomed through the ship calling it to action stations for what seemed like the one hundredth time in seventy two hours. Lieutenant Chloe Burmeister was in the CIC tracking six Cylon Raiders on a constant bearing to Hermes. She scanned each of them with the Gamma ray spectrometer and confirmed there weren't any nuclear weapons on board the Raiders which signalled that they probably didn't expect to find Hermes here. She reported this to Bowman standing beside the Operations Desk.

Dytto slammed down the headset onto the desk in frustration before turning to Bowman and said almost growling, "Engineering reports that the FTL is still down from the last attack!" Bowman didn't flinch in front of his crew, most of whom were quaking in their boots, although secretly he too was worried as he watched the DRADIS readings of the Hermes' Vipers intercepting the Cylons.

"Ok!" said Bowman. "Let's stack them up! You know the drill by now people! Targets beyond our close-in defence line get Vipers. Everything inside gets our defensive batteries. Make sure Griffon's pilots know to keep their distance from us!"

The crew of the CIC listened over the wireless as the dogfight played out in the depths of space.

"'Hot Top' committing! I got three on point and three breaking left!"

"They're trying to out flank us!"

"Blue team come left and engage! Red team straight up the middle!"

"Frak one toaster! Yea!"

"Nice shot 'Hot Top'!"

"'Slammer', behind you!"

"I see him! 'Bolter!' The right! The right!"

"Frak! 'Bolter' is gone!"

"I got two toasters swinging in on the right! It's the bastards who got 'Bolter', Red Team follow me in...Hoorah Splash two!"

It was an unnerving experience to have to sit there and listen to the dogfight playing out. Nobody in the CIC made a sound that they didn't have to although Chloe could hear her heart beating in her chest like it was a ceremonial drum. Three Raiders had been shot down by the CAP but the other three were now inside Hermes' close-in defence line. The CAP Vipers had to break off their attack and wait on the perimeter for any survivors to mop up.

"Set proximity fuses for wide angle detonation!" called out Bowman. "Release safeties and engage! Full auto fire!" The close-in defensive batteries spewed fire onto the attacking Cylons. Chloe watched the detonations on her DRADIS screen and even through the jamming saw that one of the Raiders had broken apart from a direct hit. The two survivors continued headlong in a near suicidal attack on the Battlestar. Their weapons bay doors opened and as the leader bagn to fire their missiles it was hit by defensive fire and exploded. The last Raider continued on and fired its missile which exploded in its path. Chloe saw, to her horror, that the Raider had used the missiles to blast a hole in the defensive fire from Hermes and was now clear of the batteries and swooping to the rear. There was suddely a rumbling in the decks at the feeling of a collision.

The handset buzzed and Dytto seemed to snatch it out of its holder. "Combat...Sir the Raider impacted on the port landing deck! It crashed into the TCC. We have casualties."

Chloe's world seemed to fall apart before her. She fought to control herself as an immense pressure began to build up inside her. It felt as though she was going to explode and there was nothing she could do. She felt more overwhelmed than she had ever felt in her life for she knew that her fiancee, Josh, was working in the port TCC but she had to hold back her horror. She couldn't let anyone know that they were involved. Even though the colonies were gone she felt she still had to keep her relationship a secret. She didn't know if he was alive or dead for sure but something told her at that moment that he was gone forever...

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR POD  
PRESENT DAY

"He would have been so happy" Chloe sobbed bringing herself back to the present. She knew it was true. He wanted a family with her. He made no secret of it to her. He was a hopeless romantic. The kind of guy girls dream about meeting as they grow up. He was the one, as they say, but it was her who forced them to keep things a secret. Deep down she was a career officer and a scandal such as her relationship with Josh could have ruined her career. If only she knew what was to come she would never have made the choices that she had. As she stood there looking at the charred wreckage of where he died she pictured it as the debris of a house. Their house on Gemenon perhaps? She was under no illusions that she couldn't have changed what happened to the colonies but as she stood there pregnant, scared and alone she realised that she would rather be dead now as long as she could have lived with him as a husband and wife in those final days.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES WARDROOM

Major Alex 'Griffon' Adonia had been debriefing D'Anna Biers for almost an hour now and he wanted to recap on a few things with her. He looked down at the notes he had made and ran over a few points with her in summary.

"Ok, Miss Biers" he said clearing his throat. "If I've got this correct you were on Scorpia just before the attacks on business writing an article for your magazine?" D'Anna nodded her confirmation and Adonia continued. "You were in the Northern Territories when the attack happened and you met a Colonial military unit shortly after who were rounding up civilians to help fight the Cylon invading Army?"

"Yes" she added. "They were forming a resistance movement. They told us that the fleet was gone and many of the cities had been bombed but the Centurians were moving through the towns and villages to sweep up any survivors. After the first few battles we realised we weren't upto much compared to the Cylons so we took to the hills and dug ourselves in. I'm afraid I didn't take to soldiering all too well. I've always liked to believe the pen was mightier than the sword. I guess not." The two of them shared a momentary smile in a kind of not-so-funny way.

"So about a week after the attack your one cell was splintered off into smaller cells?" continued 'Griffon'.

"Yes that's right!" she replied. "Before my cell was destroyed we hadn't had any contact with the others since that day. The Marines who formed and trained us said it would be safer that way since one cell, if captured, couldn't give away the location of another under interrogation."

'Griffon' looked down at his notes and there was one odd word he had underlined repeatedly for it was, to him anyway, the most disturbing aspect of her story. He looked up at her and asked, "Tell me more about these...these _Skinjobs_!

"I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than I already have" said D'Anna. "We don't know what they are but there are more than one of each. There are three types that we know of. Two male and one female. We don't know if they're clones or Centurians in drag or something?"

"Are you sure they're not simply collaborators?" asked 'Griffon' trying to make sense of her story.

"No definitely not! At times they even seem to be in command of the Centurians. Like they are the leaders."

Adonia had never felt so uneasy in his life. What a frightening concept - Human Cylons! Then another thought popped in his head. One that was even more unsettling. What if there were some of these _Skinjobs _aboard Hermes? He knew he had to tell Bowman at once! Not since the destruction of the colonies had 'Griffon's life changed so dramatically as it had during that one hour. As he walked to Bowman's Office to give his report he began to view everyone he saw as a possible Cylon. The Cylons have devised the perfect weapon for use against Humans by simply turning them against each other.


	21. Chapter 21

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
SERENA VALLEY, THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

The three Raptors touched down in the truck yard under the cover of darkness. With their hatches open the Hermes' Marine detachment stormed out of the small vessels in full Nuclear, Biological and Chemical or NBC suits, their weapons held poised and ready. Their primary objective at this point was to establish a perimeter around the site and set up observation posts or OPs as they were termed in military parlance. No sooner had the Marines disembarked then the Raptors began to lift off back into the air. The three craft howled as they lifted up before terrain masking their way out of the valley to jump away. The temptation here was to load the first group of Raptors up with supplies but without securing the site first that could spell disaster for the operation if Cylons were in wait nearby ready to ambush a group of Marines who were concentrating more on carrying a box of Aurora bars than watching the line.

The Marines were lead by a Lieutenant named Nester Adrastos. Before they dropped down onto the planet he had briefed his men extremely thoroughly about what the positions they were to take once on the ground. They each examined the photographs taken by 'Magma' and Burmeister to the point where they could draw a rough sketch of the site purely from memory. Adrastos knew that even the faint signals from the short wave personal wireless sets could bounce off the atmosphere and be picked up by a nearby Cylon listening post. The sixteen men under his command had to know exactly what to do the moment their boots hit the ground without his direct orders. Radio silence was to only be broken in the event of enemy contact.

Within fifteen minutes they had established their OP's and Adrastos and his Gunnery Sergeant, John Calisto, made their way from point to point checking on each position. John Calisto was every bit the stereotypical 'gunny'. Built like a tank and possessing an air of invincibility that reflected on those in his unit he was as much feared by his subordinates as they feared the Cylons and this drove them to do their best. But one thing they could all count on was that he would never let them down in a fight. Adrastos was forever thankful for having someone like him under his command. He was only twenty five years of age and had been in the service for three years, not much compared to Calisto's twelve years. When he first came aboard Hermes he felt that Calisto was 'carrying' him somewhat but he liked to think in the last year he had come into his own and was finding that he was relying less and less on Calisto in the decision making process.

After confirming that the last OP was secure the two of them slumped down between two articulated trucks for cover. Calisto checked the hexagonal tag on his arm for the radition level. It would turn all black if the radiation levels had reached dangerous levels but right now it was almost perfectly clear.

"We're doing alright in this valley Gunny!" said Adrastos through his respirator that covered his face. "Most of the radiation has been blown out to sea."

"Yes sir" growled Gunny Calisto through his own mask. "But I still want to make sure that my testacles aren't producing two headed little Johnnies!"

"Don't worry! Your NBC gear will cover you for the most part. If the radiation levels do rise then we will just have to resort to radiation meds!" explained Calisto as he took out his map and leaned over with his small red flashlight to study the surrounding terrain. Red filters were used on military flashlights because they didn't affect the human eye's natural ability to see at night so if the light was flashed in someone's face accidentally then they wouldn't have to wait another fourty minutes for them to readjust. "Listen...Gunny!" said Adrastos as he put the map back in his jacket. "Now that we're on the ground I have to reveal an important piece of information to you that was made available to me shortly before we departed. For the time being this information must, and I stress the word _must, _be kept compartmentalized! You are not to reveal it to anyone without direct authorisation from myself, Commander Bowman or Major Adonia. They are the only ones who know what I am about to tell you and Bowman has ordered that it be kept that way. The reason will be obvious."

"Sir!" interupted Gunny. "Do you mean to say that I am not to inform the men?"

"Precisely!" said Adrastos sensing Gunny's disgust at keeping his men out of the loop. "But they're Marines! They know as well as us that we can't be privy to everything the 'Man' knows and usually for a very good reason. Before we left Hermes I was called into a meeting with Bowman. The latest Intell is that the Cylons have begun mimicking human form. Now for what purpose isn't clear as yet but no doubt that's how they infiltrated our defences. I have been given standing orders that any non-crewman we encounter, beit civilian or military, we are to initiate prisoner-of-war protocol and act accordingly. I am revealing this information to you in case I am incapacitated. While I trust the men I don't want them getting trigger happy with any genuine survivors thinking they're Cylons."

"Yes sir! said Calisto. "You can count on my discretion."

"I never doubted it" explained Adrastos. Adrastos looked as Gunny's head dipped to the side in thought. Even though his face was obscured by the mask he knew that Calisto was having the same thoughts as he had when he first heard that Cylons were mimicking human form. The biggest question of course was how? When he first heard it Adrastos had the rather comical mental image of a Centurion in drag. The only thing that was certain was that it was a frightening development. "Never boring, this job, is it Gunny?" Calisto looked at him and said, "Beats guarding those frakking refugees, sir."

"So say we all!" chuckled Adrastos.

"Sir? May I ask the six million cubit question?"

"Go ahead" said Adrastos.

"If Cylons are mimicking humans how can we be sure that Hermes hasn't been compromised?" Calisto's words struck home with Adrastos. In truth he hadn't considered that possibility himself even though it was so obvious. The truth was they didn't.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Major Alex 'Griffon' Adonia's world had changed beyond all recognition. He stood in CIC looking around at the people as they worked, some of whom he had known for years, and saw them all in a new light for in his own mind he had convinced himself that any one of them could be a Cylon! It was extremely unnerving for him and he began to feel as though he was the one being watched and not the other way round. Suddenly he noticed that the eyes on the Marine guarding the door seemed to move suddenly as if the guard had realised that he was looking at him. Adonia tred to convince himself that he had imagined it but the possibility remained in his head like some vile odour that refused to be moved. What if the guard is a Cylon? Subconciously he now realised that he was staring at the Marine. The guard stood firm with his head facing forward but soon picked up on the fact that Adonia was indeed watching him and momentarily snapped his eyes to the side to confirm his suspicions.

Adonia's heart seemed to bang suddenly like someone was hitting a drum! His eyes widened. He hadn't imagined it that time. The guard _was_ keeping tabs on him. What if he is a Cylon? He is in the perfect position if he is? A baseship could jump in and attack and at a critical moment he could turn his gun on the entire CIC staff. Hermes would be helpless and over five thousand people would be slaughtered!

The main door to CIC slid open beside the Marine who now had Adonia's complete attention. The Marine turned to see who was entering and stood to attention as the broad figure of Commander Artimus Bowman entered the room. Adonia wanted to act but didn't know what to do? Even he started to think he was being crazy. What was he going to do next - start accusing everybody of being a Cylon? Maybe even Bowman? As Bowman entered, Adonia watched the Marine as he in turn watched the CO's every move as he entered. A small act of a bored Marine that would have once gone unnoticed now begged the highest suspicion from Adonia. Adonia began to feel like he was standing in a room with a bomb that was about to go off at any second!

"SITREP Major!" asked Bowman as he stood beside the Operations Desk and glanced at the confusing return on the DRADIS thanks to the Erebus Belt. Bowman's eyes turned to Adonia as he realised he hadn't answered him. "Major!" Adonia seemed to snap himself out of a day dream as he broke his eye contact with the Marine who now looked positively uneasy at having Adonia stare at him for so long.

"Hmm?" mumbled Adonia. "Oh uh! I'm sorry sir! Uh, if everything is on schedule then the insertion Raptors should be making their return jump to Scorpia in a few minutes. Providing of course Lieutenant Adrastos and his men have secured the site."

"I am aware of the plan Major" stated Bowman picking up on the fact that Adonia's response was the act of a desperate officer trying to cover his negligence. "That's not what I asked you for! What's our status?" Adonia seemed totally taken aback like he was some schoolboy who had just been caught cheating on a math test by his teacher.

"I'm sorry sir!" he said sheepishly. "All stations reporting normal. No DRADIS contacts or passive ESM signals to report. Our recon Vipers are now two hours into their patrol. No word as of yet."

"Well!" said Bowman breathing in deep. "No news is good news I suppose."

"Yes sir!" uttered Adonia almost off handedly clearly giving away the fact that his mind was on something else.

"Something wrong?" asked Bowman in such a way that it demanded an answer other than 'no'. Adonia didn't know what to say. He now suddenly felt like he was being foolish in front of his commanding officer after all what evidence did he have that the Marine was a Cylon - he was looking at him! That was it! Even he knew it was idiotic and paranoid as he slowly regained his senses. "Well?" Adonia looked around the room to make sure that no one was eavesdropping before walking up to Bowman and speaking in a subdued tone.

"I'm sorry sir!" he explained. "It's just ever since I debriefed Miss Biers I have been...troubled."

"You're starting to see Cylons everywhere is that it?" said Bowman in an equally low tone not for anyone else to hear. Adonia's face said it all. He didn't have to say it out loud. "My advice to you Major is that you take the position of giving everyone the benefit of the doubt until we have evidence to the contrary. Us turning on each other is precisely what the Cylons wanted when they adopted this tactic. At the end of the day all we have is each other. Our worlds are gone. For us this is it!" Adonia felt that he was put in his place and was greatful for it. Having been left to his own devices Adonia had come up confused and it took Bowman's insight to put him on the straight and narrow path.

"What do you intend to do about Miss Biers?" asked Adonia.

"Let's keep her in isolation for the time being" said Bowman. "We're probably doing her a favor, keeping her out of the civilian accomodation."

"That's a nice way of putting it sir" joked Adonia regarding the 'slum'. Bowman again felt a bolt of guilt over his almost ignorance of the civilian population and turned away in an absent minded attempt to change the subject when he saw that Burmeister was once again away from her station.

"Where's Captain Burmeister?" he asked. "Shouldn't she be on duty?"

"We got word that she was in sickbay" said Adonia realising he had forgotten to follow up the report."But I haven't heard from her since."

"That's not like her" said Bowman. "Get a hold of sickbay and see if she is still there!"

"Yes sir!" acknowledged Adonia as he picked up the handest to contact sickbay.

* * *

Lt. Melissa "Aurora" Saunders walked into her quarters that she shared with several other officers. The bunk to her bottom left had its curtain drawn so the occupant could have their privacy and she turned her back on it to face her own bunk immediately opposite. She had just spent over two hours of intensive simulation training in one of the Raptors on the Hangar deck running emergency drills and learning how to jam Cylon DRADIS. The training would have continued longer if Chief Imlay hadn't cut it short in order to ready the Raptor for the resupply missions to Scorpia.

She unbuttoned her jacket and threw it down on her bunk. As she looked down at the jacket she couldn't help but notice the Lieutenant pips that sat on the collar. Even though it had been over twenty four hours since she had become a Lieutenant she still couldn't believe it was true and she smiled in childish satisfaction as she looked down at them.

Her smile suddenly dropped as she heard what sounded like the vague sound of someone sobbing from behind the curtain of the bunk behind her. She stood motionless and quietly as she waited to hear the sound again. Sure enough the sound returned and she knew that it was coming from behind the curtain from Captain Burmeister's bunk.

"Captain?" she called out as she walked towards the bunk. There was no response as she heard yet another sob. "Captain Burmeister are you ok?" There was still no response. Worried, Melissa slowly drew back the curtain to check that her fellow officer was ok. "Oh my Gods!" she gasped horror stricken as she threw her hands up over her mouth in shock.

Chloe Burmeister was indeed sitting behind the curtain. Her left arm was covered in blood from several deep wounds that dug into her flesh just below her shoulder. In her right hand was a knife. Burmeister didn't even look at Melissa as she stood there terrified at the sight of all the blood. In her own mind Chloe believed that she would be better off dead so what did it matter anymore if anyone saw her bleeding like this?

What did anything matter anymore...

* * *

_**AN - I would like to take this opportunity to point a few things out that you may notice over the coming days. **_

_**Firstly, after reading back on some of the earlier chapters I have noticed that my grammar has changed slightly eg. Dradis and DRADIS so I have decided to alter these earlier chapters to be more in line with the rest of the story.**_

_**I have also rewrtitten the prologue to the first chapter. After reading it again I have decided it is too cold and doesn't really fit with the rest of the story. No new information is revealed so there is no need to read it again if you don't want.**_

_**The rating is being modified from K+ to T as I think the story deserves this new rating the way it is going.**_

_**Finally the number of chapters will be reduced. No content is being removed. I am simply merging a few of the shorter chapters into one since they are only a few hundred words compared to the average of 2-3,000 of the others.

* * *

**_

_**I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has taken the time to read my story. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed the story so far and continue to do so. We are almost at the end of the first installment of the story about a Battlestar named Hermes and the people who call it 'home' but their journey is far from over...  
**_


	22. Chapter 22

INSERTION RAPTORS  
THE EREUBUS BELT

Lavour sat in the rear compartment of 'Stinger's Raptor chewing nervously on his fingernails. Memories of his last time in a Raptor during the Hellenic Traveller mission ran through in his head over and over again. Never in his life had he come so close to facing his own mortality. He looked up at the other Civilian aide, a rather burly man in his mid thirties, who sat opposite him beside the Raptor's ECMO who 'Stinger' called 'Walleye'. Lavour envied how calm he seemed and couldn't contemplate how anyone could keep their cool in these circumstances. His hands seemed to have developed an excessive amount of energy and he found himself trying to find something for them to do or they would start shaking erratically. He told himself to get a grip and calm down but his own inspirational words that rang in his head failed to help as they appeared to lack substance.

'Stinger' checked his sychronised watch before turning his head to say, "Three and a half minutes before we jump!"

Lavour could feel his whole body resisting the urge to shake. He now had images of over a million ways he could possibly die on this mission but one thing concerned him above all else. The Marines all had radiation suits but he and the other civilian did not. They just wore standard green military fatigues! Maybe the military wouldn't mind a few civilians dieing from radiation poisoning after all it means more food and more space for everyone else? The conspiracy he had fabricated took hold of him like an obsession. It was now making sense to him but he needed confirmation of one way or the other.

"Excuse me...uh...Sir!" he called out to 'Stinger'.

"What is it Lavour?" answered 'Stinger'. "Make it quick, we're about to jump!"

Lavour swallowed heavily before explaining, "Sir! Why don't we have radiation suits?"

"Firstly Lavour" said 'Stinger' mildly annoyed at the interruption. "We don't have that many in storage and the more we use them the less effective they become so we have to limit their use. Secondly, you're only going to be on the ground a few minutes and the radiation levels are low to zero in this valley. That's why we chose that particular valley. Now shut up and get ready to jump! Ninety seconds!"

"B-B-But how can we be sure?" stuttered a near panic stricken Lavour. Lavour's eyes raced between 'Walleye' and the other civilian looking for either support or the answers that he wanted but the two of them just looked back through vague and blank expressionless eyes that only hightened Lavour's anxiety. "I mean what if, what if you've-"

"Lavour shut up!" shot 'Walleye'.

"Thirty seconds!" continued 'Stinger'.

Lavour retreated to the one thing that always helped him, even just a little, in these situations - Prayer!

* * *

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
SERENA VALLEY, THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

Calisto made his way around each of the OPs as many times as he could checking on his team. Using the wireless was still out of the question unless contact was made with the enemy so it was up to him to make sure that everyone was ok and hadn't been taken by surprise. He reminded each of them that the Raptor's were returning in just a few minutes and that during the ten or so minutes the Raptor's were on the ground they were all at their most vulnerable. Above all he reminded each of them of their training even though he knew he didn't have to but he also knew that the myth about the training 'taking over' was not always true in the heat of the moment. Emotion is a double edged sword in combat. It can drive you to extraordinary acts of bravery or turn a fully grown man into quivering and frightened child. As he went from one OP to the next he repeated the same words to each team, "Keep your cool! Watch the line! Remember your jobs! You're doing good guys, keep it up!" That last line caught several of his men off guard who all thought the same question, "Did he just give us a compliment?" For some the result was quite comical. But others took it as a sign of just how serious things were.

Calisto found Lt. Adrastos in the truckyard along with two 'spare' Marines. The three of them were dragging out the first containers each of which were marked as 'Organic - stored for vacuum distribution' on the label. Calisto helped as they stacked up each of the containers into three piles - one for each Raptor. The work of loading each container was going to be made even more difficult by the fact that there was no consistent size to any of them. Some were cubical while others were rectangular and to Adrastos's own annoyance he even spotted some cylindrical ones!

"It's almost as if the God's are having a joke at our expense" he uttered to himself in his respirator as he surveyed the crates all piled up and awaiting loading. He looked down at his watch and saw that the Raptor's were due momentarily as Calisto walked upto him.

"All positions are good!" reported Calisto. "We are as ready as we're ever going to be!"

"Understood!" acknowledged Adrastos. "Let's get the transponder ready. They wont land without it and we'd be stuck here."

"Yes sir! Myers!" called out Callisto to one of the 'spare' Marines who was standing nearby catching his breath before stumbling over to Calisto. Private First Class Myers knew what Calisto wanted without having to be told and so instinctively turned his back on Calisto for him to access the small pouch with the field transponder located inside.

"Two minutes!" added Adrastos. Calisto turned on the power supply and a series of buttons numbered zero to nine began to flash on the key panel above which was a small LCD display. Next to the display were two lights. One was labelled 'transmit' and the second was labelled 'receive only'. Right now the transponder was in 'receive only' mode. Calisto turned to Adrastos and said, "We're good, sir!" Each of the remaining eighty seconds seemed to take an eternity until finally three dull thuds rang through the valley.

"Incoming!" snapped Adrastos. While they knew that in all likelihood that it was the returning Raptors there was always the chance that they could in fact be Cylon Raiders and so the three of them took cover behind one of the parked trucks hoping that if they were Cylons then they wouldn't notice that someone had moved supplies from out of the factory and left them in the yard. _Yea like that was going to happen!_thought Calisto. He knew full well that a regular Cylon patrol over this area would get to know how the place should look better than a human ever would. That was why they weren't allowed to move the trucks to make more space for the Raptors.

* * *

INSERTION RAPTORS  
INSIDE SCORPIA'S ATMOSPHERE

The cabin of the Raptor shook violently as the vacuum of space was replaced by turbulent wind patterns created by the bombing that were still ravaging the planet and turning it's once mild climate distinctly cold. Lavour gripped onto his seat tightly with his eyes screwed closed as if that would make it all go away all the while still silently praying.

"We're approximately five miles south of the LZ. Not bad!" said 'Walleye' as he confirmed his navigation readings. "I'm sending the transponder codes now." 'Walleye' typed in the numbers Zero-Seven-One-One-Eight-Four into the transponder system and the Raptor broadcasted the codes to the Marines on the ground.

* * *

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
SERENA VALLEY, THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

Adrastos looked on as the numbers appeared on the LCD display. His eyes ran over the sequence twice just to be that additionally sure it was correct before he switched their own transponder over to 'transmit' and typed in the response. Two-seven-One-One-Eight-Five. The 'transmit' light beeped twice to confirm it had been sent.

"It's sent!" said Adrastos. "Let's get ready! Take your positions!"

Through the darkness the howling of the Raptor's vertical thrusters grew louder and louder as they closed in on the site at high speed. As they neared the landing area inside the truck yard they each veered their noses high up into the air to gain maximum drag and their speed dramatically reduced down to almost zero before they lowered onto the ground, their skids hitting the tarmac with a loud scraping sound. Suddenly the howl reduced to a whistle as the engines reduced power to idling speed and the hatches on the port side of each of the Raptors swung open to allow the civilians to rush out towards the awaiting cargo containers.

Even Lavour went darting out as he felt himself get caught up in the rush of emotion. As he ran over to the first crate to help a Marine load it his mind was screaming at him that every breath he was taking was filling his lungs with radioactive poison. He tried not to breath but the weight of the crate forced his lungs to inhale vast amounts of air as they carried it back to the Raptor and with the help of 'Walleye' dragged the first container up the 'wing' of the craft and into the cabin. Lavour then turned around and ran back towards the containers. After three containers had been loaded Lavour returned for the fourth time. Out of breath and running almost entirely on emotion and adrenaline his feet seemed to run away from him and he stumbled before falling onto the floor, his own momentum rolling him over several times. A srface scratch appeared on his left cheek from the dirt and grit on the ground.

"Get up you stupid frakwood!" bellowed the Marine at Lavour as he struggled to get back on his feet to help move another crate. In all five crates of various sizes were loaded onto 'Stinger's Raptor. Ideally they would have liked to keep the civilans on the ground ready for the next round to save space and maybe get another crate on board but there simply weren't enough NBC or radiation suits aboard Hermes to waste. The Marine detachment on the ground had to have them because of their prolonged exposure.

With the last crate loaded Lavour seemed to drag his exhausted body up the side of 'Stinger's Raptor and crawl in through the hatch that closed only moments behind him. One Raptor had already been loaded up and was lifting into the air as 'Stinger' applied vertical power and began to follow. The spaces between each of the Raptors and the parked trucks was extremely tight and as 'Stinger' was concentrating so hard on watching the third Raptor on his port side as it took off not wanting to 'bump heads' he failed to notice that he was drifting towards one of the trucks and the starboard wing started scraping up the side of the trailer. 'Stinger' was experienced enough to fight the urge to pull away knowing full well that such an action would throw him into the adjacent Raptor. Instead he compensated gently and soon he was clear. He applied forward thrusters and the Raptor passed over the roof of the distribution centre in pursuit of the first Raptor that was now beginning a terrain masked departure from the LZ towards the jump point.

Adrastos and Calisto watched through the transparent plastic of the eye pieces in their respirator masks as the last Raptor disappeared off into the dark sky. Adrastos checked his watch and worked out the total time it took for the Raptors to be loaded and away.

"Eleven and a half minutes from the skids hitting the ground!" he said to Calisto although in the blind rush to get them loaded it seemed a lot less. "We got twenty five minutes before the next load. Let's take five before we start moving the next ones!" It had been decided prior to the operation that initially there would be twenty five minute gaps between each Raptor mission in order to reduce the chances of detection and to determine the frequency of enemy patrols in the region. Once that had been established they could adjust the patrols accordingly. For the time being heavy cloud cover was protecting them from any Baseships in orbit but over time this was going to become yet another consideration.

As Gunnery Sergeant Calisto stood there after the first run it dawned on him for the first time the magnitude and complexity of the operation they were undertaking and spoke under his breath, "This is going to take a frakking lifetime or at least a miracle! Whatever comes first?"

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES SICKBAY

Bowman walked in to sickbay still in disbelief regarding the call he had received just a few moments earlier from Deveroux. He walked up to Deveroux who quickly finished with a patient at the sight of the Commander entering the room. Even though he knew it was irrational Bowman's disgust with him seemed to grow at the news he had been given by his new Chief Medical Officer as if in some way he was to blame.

"Where is she?" asked Bowman.

"Over there!" explained Deveroux motioning to a bed partially covered by a medical curtain from the side of which he could see a pair of legs laying flat down on the mattress. "I think that you sh-." Deveroux was cut off by Bowman's march passed him towards the purpose of his visit to this part of his ship. Bowman pulled across the curtain and saw Chloe Burmeister sitting up on the bed, her left arm between her elbow and shoulder, was heavily bandaged up. It was true! He hadn't wanted to believe it! He would have preferred to have found that it was a mistake but sure enough the proof was laying before him. One of his most trusted and reliable officers was indeed self harming.

She sat there motionless refusing to look at him. Her eyes stared forward from her vague and emotionless face. As he looked at the pitiful sight of the young officer before him he felt overwhelming guilt for as Commander he knew he was responsible for the welfare of those under his command. No it was more than that! He felt like he had failed her somehow? How could he have not noticed it? He knew that something was wrong with her but then again that was true for everyone! They had all lost their homes, their families coupled with the fact that they had low food supplies and no running water. Everyone was suffering but he thought she was handling it. He had come to rely on her again and again and the thought that this reliance on her might have somehow triggered her to desecrate her own body stung him deeply.

"You want to talk about it?" he said amost in a whisper. She didn't respond. Instead her head drooped in shame. She couldn't stand the fact that he was looking at her with pity. She hated his pity because it came from a man she had come to respect like a father. Maybe it wasn't the pity that she hated but rather the thought of him being disappointed in her. She knew she had buckled under the pressure and failed and that was worse than anything else.

Despite her silence Bowman persisted. "Chloe?" She still refused to acknowledge his presence. "Chloe?" he repeated in a firmer tone but still no response. Bowman knew that the soft approach wasn't going to get through to her. "Captain Burmeister!" he shot like a Marine drill sergeant. At the sound of her rank her head instinctively turned to face him expecting to find an angry CO before her but instead found a caring and worried face looking back at her. Bowman didn't know how to continue so he decided to attack the topic head on but did so in a delicate way. "How long have you been doing this? Deveroux said you have scars that seem to go back at least two weeks. At least those are the ones he knows about." Chloe stayed silent for a few more seconds as she fought to find the courage to talk to him.

"I used to do it when I was in school" she explained almost in a whimper. "I had some tough times back then. My parents were always fighting and I used to sit in my room with a needle and...poke a hole in my arm. It...would make me feel like I was letting things go." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I started doing it again about three weeks ago. I just...felt like I was going to explode! Like I had to release the pressure that was building up inside me."

"So you took a knife to your arm?" finished Bowman sombrely. "Chloe! Why didn't you come to me? If I'd known I could have helped you. Did you talk to anyone? Caleb?" She shook her head. Bowman looked down at the young woman who was suffering before him and couldn't believe the change she had undertaken through the time he had known her. When he came aboard she was young, bright and enthusiastic but above all happy. Then the Cylons attacked and something happened to her. The same happy young woman became cold and hard and yet here she was. Beaten! Broken! Defeated! "What drove you to slicing your arms like that though? Those were some pretty deep injuries you gave yourself. You gave 'Aurora' quite a Gods damn scare!"

In all her self pity and obsession with hurting herself she had all but forgotten why she had done it. She took her eyes off Bowman and looked down at her stomach. The realisation that a life was growing inside her overwhelmed her as she put her right hand onto where she believed the foetus was growing. She tried to picture the life that it would be born into but for the love of the Gods just couldn't stand the thought of having a baby on board Hermes on the run from the Cylons and fending off starvation for the rest of it's life.

"You're pregnant?" Bowman had picked up on her long gaze at her own body. She simply nodded once. Although as Commander he knew it was a serious breach of protocol he found his hand resting on her shoulder to comfort her. Lead by the gesture she turned and leaned against his chest and he embraced her like the father she often viewed him to be as she sobbed into his shoulder. Bowman didn't know what to say or do? Instead he just held her for a few minutes.


	23. Chapter 23

BATTLESTAR HERMES  
PORT HANGAR DECK  
LAUNCH TUBE 5

Lieutenant Philo Allenforth had a most unfortunate callsign - 'Bingo'. It's not the name itself since 'Bingo' could refer to many things but he earned it during training as a result of his over zealous use of his Viper's thrusters which often meant he was soon at 'Bingo fuel' which left him with just enough to return to base. Although his training eventually beat the habit out of him the callsign had stuck with him ever since.

The G-forces of a Viper launch could pin even the most burly and strongest pilots to their ejection seats. Sitting in his Viper VII as it traversed the luanch tube at ferociously high speed 'Bingo' was at this point not a pilot but a passenger since this was the only part of Viper flying where the pilot has no control and just sits back and goes along for the ride. The Viper appeared to be spat out of the Hermes' port side Hangar Pod into space like it was some used piece of chewing gum that the ship was finished with. Once clear of the launch tube 'Bingo' took control and turned the nose of his Viper towards the rear of Hermes as he began his transition to his designated reconnaissance area. As his Viper passed beside Hermes 'Bingo' took a moment to look at his ship from the outside. There were plenty of surface scars and scorch marks along the hull but the armour of the Battlestar remained intact.

"A good ship!" he uttered to himself surveying the damage and being thankful that Hermes had kept him and all those aboard alive.

His Viper passed the rear of the Battlestar and continued along into the Erebus Belt. It was not long that both Battlestar and Viper were obscured from each other by dust and debris and 'Bingo' began to get a real sense of being alone. He wasn't used to solo flights since Vipers seldom travelled alone especially on active missions but it was another one of those 'necessary evils' that had kept cropping up lately. 'Bingo' had come to notice that those two words were being used rather frequently of late as if they were some sort of excuse for the lack of flying or standard military practice such as two Vipers on reconnaissance, a mission the Viper was never meant for in the first place!. 'Don't have the fuel' was another set of words that was coming up quite often and usually in conjunction with 'necessary evil'. Traversing the DRADIS 'soup' that was created by the the Belt 'Bingo' came to realise that in actual fact two Vipers would mean only one thing to the Cylons - two targets to be destroyed. While it was hardly a comforting thought since he was still at risk it was strangely reassuring to know that if everything went wrong then at least it would only be him in trouble and his buddies would be nice and safe aboard Hermes. This thought surprised even him and he chalked it up to an emotional detachment from reality and the acceptance of the greater good in the success of the overall mission; for Hermes to survive and thus humanity to survive. I was the ideal fighter pilot mentality.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES CALEB DYTTO'S QUARTERS

The dim light of the desk lamp drew long shadows across Caleb Dytto's quarters as he sat up against the small table adjacent to his bunk. His rough and unshaven face emphasised his bitter features as he glared down longingly at the photo album that sat in front of him. Until Bowman had relieved him of duty Dytto rarely, if ever, looked at it but in the past few days he found himself enthralled with it as if it were some novel he just couldn't put down. As he glanced at the photographs of happier times he came to realise that it may as well have been a work of fiction. That life now seemed so far removed from the present and was now little more than a photo album. There was no hope of ever reclaiming it now that the colonies were gone but in truth Caleb knew that he had lost that life long before the Cylons reappeared.

Glancing through the photographs day by day he began to search for that one picture that would reveal to him just when he fell off the merry-go-round. Six pages in to the album he found the only picture he kept of his ex-wife. It was nothing special as such. It was simply a picture of her that he had taken eating breakfast in their first apartment on Gemenon. She looked so happy in the picture. She had dark auburn hair that ran down her back and in the photograph it sat untidily on her head indicating that she hadn't long got up from bed. That was twelve years ago now. The marriage didn't last. His career made sure of that. She simply couldn't stand the long months of waiting for Caleb to return from being in space aboard a Battlestar. The worsening situation on Sagitaron about six years ago was the last nail in the coffin. Dytto pictured her sitting in front of the television every night watching the images of the bombings carried out by Tom Zarek and later by the Sagitaron Liberation Army and thinking that the next body was going to be his. She pleaded with him to leave the service but ultimately he chose to stay and hoped that she would accept his decision. She didn't and they separated. The sad truth is that the love was always there but it just wasn't enough for Dytto. He wanted his own command. The last he heard was she had moved to Tauron after marrying a Lawyer.

Three more pages in and there was a photograph of him standing next to a rather portly man in his forties with dark and grey hair parted on the left side. This picture always put a smile on his face. The man in the picture was Richard Burmeister, his best friend since childhood. They had grown up more like brothers than friends. The two of them were inseparable. Many who knew them believed that one would have laid down their life for the other. The photograph was taken the day Richard's daughter, Chloe Burmeister, returned home to Gemenon shortly after graduating from the Defence Academy on Caprica as an officer in the Colonial Fleet. Although Richard would have liked her to have become a priest like him she was fascinated by her 'Uncle Caleb's' stories of deep space and he knew that from a young age she was destined to join the fleet. He was so proud that day. The work Chloe had put into her studies was immense graduating third in her class.

To the right of the photo of him and Richard was Chloe wearing her uniform in Richard's living room. The photograph was itself taken the same day as the one of him and Richard. She looked mildly embarrassed in the picture, the photo not revealing the huge crowd of people crammed into the small room behind the camera cheering her on. It was never his idea to have her first assignment on board Hermes. If she was his daughter or even his niece it would never have happened but because they weren't legally family then there was nothing stopping her being posted to his ship. It was because of how hard she had worked that he was deeply suspicious of her relationship with Lieutenant Joshua Albert. Although he never had proof of anything, thankfully since as XO he would have had to act if he did, he was forever worried that if anything ever came of the two of them and they were discovered it would be the end of everything. Same-ship relationships were strictly forbidden in the Colonial Fleet.

There was a sudden knocking on his hatch. The nostalgia was brushed away as if it were a tangible substance that had been physically ripped from his being. He closed the album with a loud thumping sound and returned it to the shelf where he had taken it from. The delayed response from Dytto caused a second series of knocks from his visitor.

"Yes!" he snarled at the door. "Come in!"

Dytto sat on the edge of his bunk as the hatch opened. Expecting to find Chloe he was almost taken aback when the person standing in the doorway was in fact Bowman. Both men felt the room go distinctly cold as they clasped eyes on each other for the first time in days. It was an unnerving experience for both. Their last encounter had come quite literally to blows and Dytto winced at the Commander as if longing for payback.

"May I come in Colonel?" asked Bowman coolly.

"It's y_our s_hip!" replied Dytto. "And last I heard I wasn't Colonel anymore. So what do I owe the pleasure of an audience with the Commander? Come to evict me?" Bowman didn't rise to Dytto's attack. He wasn't there to fight but even so he felt his blood boiling over and was fighting the urge to clench his fists.

"Maybe before long" replied Bowman as he closed the hatch behind him. As he turned to face his former XO there was a feeling in the air that they were no longer simply in Dytto's quarters but were in an arena. "We may need the space!" Bowman chose his words carefully. Each one was a tactical effort towards making sure that Dytto knew that while he can and will shoot his mouth off he continued to be subordinate to Bowman. Bowman knew that the bitterness and anger that Dytto was holding up inside was actually a tool to control Dytto at this moment. It was something he could manipulate if necessary but this conversation wasn't about them. It was about Chloe.

"Oh of course!" wined Dytto. "Being out of the loop I forgot all about our little...shopping trip to Scorpia. How is that going by the way?"

"Just fine so far" said Bowman still standing in front of the door, his broad physique giving the impression that he was blocking Dytto's escape. "Imlay's deck gang are unloading the third haul as we speak. I've just spoken with Deveroux about setting up a kind of ration plan based on the nutritional value of each item. Every item is allocated a number of points. Everybody has so many points per day depending on age and sex."

"Hmm! The civies wont like being told what they can eat. There's going to be trouble in the long run. Good idea though I suppose" commented Dytto almost downplaying the compliment.

"Actually it was my wife's...in a way" replied Bowman feeling he had to explain himself since he very obviously hadn't been talking to his wife, Brooke. "It's the same system she was using when she was on a diet last year. Drove me nuts when I had to do the shopping. Had to check how many points everything was?" Dytto sniggered at the mental image he had of the _great _Commander Bowman in a supermarket with a trolley and a shopping list. "Chloe is in sickbay!" The words hit Dytto like a blunt object had been thrust to his chest.

"What?" he gasped! "Why?"

"She...uh" Bowman struggled to find the words. How do you tell someone that a loved one is deliberately cutting their own skin with a knife? "She's been...hurting herself. With a knife! She's hurt herself quite badly."

"Gods!" sighed Dytto as he threw his head into his right hand in a way that signalled to Bowman that this wasn't the first time.

"She's done this before?"

"When she was younger" explained Dytto. "But she pulled herself out of it. I knew she's been having a tough time. We all have. I thought she was coping."

"So did I" added Bowman. "But there's something else you need to know. She's pregnant. That must have been what pushed her over this time."

Dytto couldn't assimilate the information properly. His head was in a whirlwind. At that moment the realisation that she and Lt. Albert had indeed been in a relationship stung him bitterly. It was partly a feeling of betrayal. She had openly lied to him and that hurt. And now that he knew that she was pregnant it was obvious that she had engaged in sexual relations with him outside of marriage. Her father would have been devastated. How could she have done this? His Gemenon upbringing put the notion into Dytto's mind that her punishment from the Gods would be to have to raise this bastard child herself but even though the religious indoctrination of his people rang in his head Dytto knew that it wasn't that simple. How could he turn his back on her now? In some ways she was all he had left.

"Do you know who the father is?" continued Bowman.

"I have an idea" said Dytto. "Lieutenant Albert. He was killed about a week after the attack. He was the Traf-"

"I know who he was!" shot Bowman letting his anger rise momentarily at the insinuation that he was out of touch with his crew. He calmed himself before asking, "You knew?"

"I suspected but, on my honour, I had no proof. Otherwise I would have intervened" explained Dytto. "Can I see her?"

"In the morning" said Bowman. "She's resting for the time being. Doctor's orders, not mine."

"I understand" said Dytto truthfully. Dytto's eyes stared blankly ahead. Bowman could see that Dytto's mind was no longer in the room and so he turned to leave. As he spun the handle on the hatch Dytto called out, "Commander!" Surprised, Bowman turned to face Dytto who was getting up off the bunk. You could almost see Dytto's pride as he swallowed it humbly and said, "Thank you...For coming to me with this. You could have just sent someone or not told me at all. So, thank you!"

Bowman knew that this moment was just that; a moment. He knew that in a few hours when Dytto had got over the shock of the news he would be back to his old self. Bowman simply nodded an acknowledgement to his former XO, turned and left. As the hatch shut on Dytto he was left with the hard realisation that Chloe was in trouble and that if anything ever happened to her then he would truly be alone now. It was almost a selfish attitude and he knew it. It was his own selfishness that had isolated him from everyone else including Bowman. Especially Bowman!

Suddenly his quarters felt tighter and more confined than ever before. He was, for the first time, faced with the prospect of being truly alone.

* * *

VIPER RECONNAISSANCE MISSION  
THE EREBUS BELT

'Bingo' had his hands clenched on the controls as he continued his mission always on the lookout for some stray rock that might catch him off guard but the excitement of dodging high speed rocks were few and far between. In all the mission had proven quite boring. As a large rock several kilometres in diameter came up on his starboard side he nudged the control stick to port and his Viper jerked to the left, the rock passing on the right hand side.

"This is no good!" he said to himself having no one else to talk to. "Hermes wont be able to jump anywhere around here."

He cut forward power and pulled back on the stick. The Viper responded by bringing it's nose up high until it was pointing in the direction 'Bingo' had come from and applied full throttle to kill the inertia. As the Viper slowed his DRADIS screen beeped momentarily with a new contact in close proximity since the returns from any further ranges were confused and distorted by the DRADIS 'soup'.

"Frakking rocks!"

That gave him an idea that was generated purely out of the boredom of his flight. He pointed his nose at the largest rock nearby, the one that he had passed just moments earlier, and decided to practice some low flying through a 'valley' that had formed across it's circumference from centuries of bombardment by smaller rocks. His Viper dived in to the valley and pulled up just a few feet from the surface. 'Bingo's heart began to feel alive again as it thumped in his chest, his hands making rapid and sharp movements on the stick as he went along. Having received his adrenalin 'fix' for the day he pulled back on the stick and the Viper stormed out of the valley.

'Bingo's eyes widened! His heart froze! There on his DRADIS screen was a silhouette he had become all too familiar with and it was closing rapidly. He was heading straight for it faster than his mind could react! He instinctively threw up his hands in a vain attempt to cover his face as his port wing crashed into the lone Cylon Raider decapitating it's 'face'. The Cylon had obviously not seen 'Bingo' on DRADIS as he undertook his joyride. The Raider spun wildly spewing red 'blood' from the severed 'brain' before soft landing on the powdery surface of a nearby planetoid. 'Bingo' had come off the luckiest. The impact had crushed almost all his forward momentum but had left him with a destroyed wing and in an uncontrollable slow spin. All his systems were dead and he knew that only his life support system, independent of the main craft in case of ejection, was operational. That was something at least! He fought to control his breath as his craft still spun.

"Oh Gods!" he repeated over and over as if just to have something to say. He knew there was nothing he could do. He couldn't contact Hermes because the wireless was dead and the controls weren't responding. All he could do was sit and pray that someone was coming to rescue him before the Cylons went looking for their missing Raider.


	24. Chapter 24

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S QUARTERS

Bowman slumped onto his bunk, his jacket pulled open and hanging loosely from his chest. The day had taken its toll on the Commander and his face seemed to droop downwards as if the gravity in the room had been increased. _Of all the people,_ _Chloe!_ He was still having a hard time coping with what his Tactical Officer had done to herself. _How could I have missed it?_ The guilt had become heavy in his chest and as if submitting to its pressure he allowed his head to fall back onto his pillow and stare into the dim light from the lamp above his head. Everytime he returned to his bunk it would seem that the light would force him to confront his demons. Guilt over what he saw as 'abandoning' the colonies. Guilt over the three thousand people in the 'slum'. Guilt over all of those who had died under his command and now he had the guilt of not seeing one of his closest aides crumbling before him. _I should have seen it in the wardroom _he thought as his mind cast back to their conversation about Cylons having a soul. It seemed so obvious to him now.

He reached up and as he was about to switch the lamp off to put the room into perpetual darkness where he could hide from his demons he silently asked the Gods for forgiveness. Although never a religious man he had found himself talking more and more to the Gods over the past month but the answer that always came to him was that the Gods only help those who help themselves. He would have to find forgiveness in himself. His finger flicked the switch and the room went black.

Whether it was a minute or an hour later Bowman didn't know for sure but he was disturbed by the buzzing of the intercom to his quarters. He flicked the light back on and stammered out of his bed towards the buzzing handset hanging on the wall near his desk. He picked up the receiver and said groggily, "Bowman…Go!" The voice on the other end was Major Adonia's and it seemed worried.

"Sir! We have a Viper overdue by thirty minutes. It's 'Bingo', he was on recon."

"God's damn it!" uttered Bowman through gritted teeth as he slammed his fist against the wall. "When is the next Raptor group due to depart for Scorpia?"

"Group ten is just about to leave the hangar deck. They're prepping now. We have two groups in the belt. Group nine is outbound and group eight should be making their way back to Hermes as we speak" explained Adonia.

"If the Cylons have taken out 'Bingo' then they will begin a search of the surrounding area. They know full well that Vipers don't just go wandering around the universe without a Battlestar nearby. We may have to relocate once groups eight and nine have returned. We can upload the new jump coordinates to group ten before they depart. Start going through the data the other recon Vipers have brought back and find us a suitable new location with which to hide from."

"Sir?" gasped an almost horror stricken Adonia!

"What is it?"

"Are we…leaving 'Bingo' out there to die?" Adonia's words were almost pleading with Bowman. He no doubt feared the answer. Being the former CAG Adonia was very close to the pilots aboard Hermes and probably knew 'Bingo' personally.

Bowman knew that the chances were that he was already dead if the Cylons had found him. But alternatively there was also the chance that 'Bingo' had simply gotten lost. Bowman thought for a moment. Hermes cant move until Raptor groups eight and nine returned which was at least an hour and it would have been foolish to use the wireless to communicate with them through the Erebus Belt because that would be like announcing to any Cylons in the area that there was a Battlestar hiding away in the debris as well as six Raptors. Bowman composed himself before answering, "Have group ten hold off their departure. Take one Raptor from group ten and assign eight Vipers, four on escort and four to widen the search area. They have an hour to find 'Bingo'! After that they have to return to Hermes to prepare to relocate. I'm on my way to CIC."

* * *

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
SERENA VALLEY, THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

Lt. Adrastos waited at the makeshift command centre he had established in an office around the periphery of the main warehouse while Calisto and another of the Marines went to check where the fibre optic cable that linked each OP with Adrastos was cut this time. They had set up the fibre optic line over three hours ago to help with communications since using the wireless could reveal their position. The fibre optic cable had been salvaged from wrecked Vipers and Raptors by Imlay's deckgang since there wasn't enough in the ship's stores to spare because most of it had been used by damage control teams. Unfortunately the cables were proving easy to sever as they were fed around the large complex to the individual OPs the biggest cause of which was friction against truck tyres so they spent much of their time seeking out old rags they could use to protect them from the tread.

Calisto appeared in the doorway and said "Got it! Try it now!" Adrastos lifted up his receiver and charged the battery by winding up the electric dynamo on the side. There was enough stored energy in the phones to receive an alert for an incoming call but the battery needed a quick charge to transmit. This was easier than carrying heavy fully charged single use batteries with them since only the Gods knew how long they were going to be down there and everything had to be carried. Solar panels would be unreliable in the dense cloud cover and also sparkled particularly brightly in sunlight. They would be like signal flares to the Cylons. The whole operation was completely dependant on stealth.

"Red six this is Red one. Radio check!" said Adrastos who waited for the OP on the north western quadrant to respond. The receiver crackled in his ear before a voice responded, "Red one, Red six. Receiving loud and clear." Adrastos acknowledged the check call and put down the receiver before looking up at Calisto who was leaning up against the door. Even through the layers of NBC clothing it was clear that the burly Marine gunnery sergeant was getting tired. They all were. For the past four hours they had loaded eight Raptors and were ready for the next one which was due in just a few minutes. Even though Adrastos had rotated his men between OP and loading duties to help give them a rest both he and Calisto had barely stopped since they had arrived. Given the restrictions of the NBC suits this made for particularly tiring work and both Adrastos and Calisto shared a disheartening look regarding the fact that they had barely touched the surface with what they had loaded already. At several points they tried to speak but neither could find the words and it took the buzzing of the makeshift telephone system to break the silence. Adrastos wound up the electric dynamo and spoke into the receiver knowing that every OP would be listening in. "Red one!"

"Red five here! Airborne contact from north eastern quadrant. It's not a Raider but it's not a Raptor either. It's going to pass right over us!"

Adrastos quickly passed on the information to Calisto and both men rushed to the sides of the window to conceal their bodies as they scanned the skies with their eyes. Calisto had to wipe away some of the dust from the glass before he could make out what it was Red five were seeing in the dull blue and grey early morning clouds. Sure enough there was an aircraft in the sky heading straight for their position. Calisto pointed it out to Adrastos who then spoke again into the receiver, "I see it. All positions hold! Just let it pass over! Don't do anything!"

Calisto looked back at Adrastos as if to silently say that if they were spotted by it then they were as good as dead. Among their armament were two shoulder launched surface-to-air missiles but these systems hadn't been tested against the latest Cylon Raiders. Also their use was to be strictly limited since if they fired them it would blow their cover. Adrastos had made it clear that they were only to be used as a last resort in an effort to buy time for an extraction. As the aircraft passed overhead Calisto examined the strange craft. It was definitely a Cylon but he hadn't seen that configuration before.

"It could be some kind of armoured transport?" Calisto said quietly to Adrastos as if his lowered tone would help improve their level of concealment in some way. "It's big enough!"

"Or it could be some kind of heavy Raider?" added Adrastos as he took a look. The Cylon craft whirred overhead without stopping and continued on a southerly course until it was out of sight. Adrastos breathed deeply as if it were the first breath he had ever taken as he calmed his fraying nerves. He checked his watch before taking out a notebook from his jacket pocket and noted the time of the sighting.

"If that was a standard patrol" he explained as he wrote. "And we know how much the Cylons like consistency then that gives us a four hour window, at least, depending on what time they come back. If it is consistent over the next few days then we can increase the number of flights in and out of here in that time."

"I'm sure the men will love that sir!" uttered Calisto sarcastically commenting on the extra work they would have to put in to get them loaded.

"Yea! Well there's no point bitching about it. Next Raptor is due in fifteen minutes so let's get shifting!"

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Bowman knew it was unwise, maybe even a little naive, but he felt he had to take a stimulant pill before going to CIC. He just didn't feel like he had the strength to face this latest crisis without them. As he marched into CIC no one would have believed that he had been awake for over twenty seven particularly long hours that had seen his ship begin the biggest operation they had undertaken since the Cylon attack on the colonies. Coupled with that fact was that in the same amount of time they had learned that the Cylons were now looking like humans, Burmeister was self harming herself to the point where she had to be put in sickbay and now a Viper was missing! It would be a lot for even the greatest of men to handle but Bowman couldn't appear to falter, not now at this crucial juncture.

"SITREP!" asked Bowman with a renewed and artificial energy. Adonia looked up from the chart that was strewn across the illuminated Operations Desk.

"Sir! 'Bingo's mission area was here in Blue Three-Zero" explained Adonia highlighting one specific area of the Erebus Belt. "The search team is assembled and waiting for the 'go'. At sublight speeds in a Raptor or Viper it's a fifteen minute transit time which if we limit our search time to one hour only gives us about thirty minutes to cover. Sir, we need more time than that! If we add in drift factor if his Viper was damaged...We need at least four hours to conduct a proper search."

"By which time his oxygen supply would have expired anyway" added Bowman. It was a rare moment that Adonia and Bowman didn't see eye to eye and both men knew that this was going to be one of those moments. Bowman looked into Adonia's eyes and saw that he was thinking like the CAG and not the XO. It was perfectly understandable to Bowman who remembered a similar transitory phase when he too made the same leap. Bowman paused to consider their situation. If the Cylons were in this region then his main concern was to relocate the Hermes to a new hiding place in the Erebus Belt. If they had found and killed or captured 'Bingo' it would only be a matter of time before they would find Hermes if it stayed sitting here. "How are we coming on finding a new hiding place for Hermes?"

"Uh...We have found two good locations for Hermes to relocate to," explained Adonia. There was some hesitance in Adonia's voice. He didn't want to change the subject because in doing so he felt like he was giving up one of _his_ pilots for dead! Looking at Bowman's cold and hard face Adonia could almost see the mechanical brain of Bowman at work at this point. Bowman's militaristic side of his personality had taken over and was working on logic and reason and the emotion that Adonia was emanating seemed to reflect back to him with a feeling of disapproval from Bowman. Transmitting from Bowman's face, Adonia saw what had to be done and even he had to admit it was the right course of action; no matter how distasteful it seemed. He was the XO and there was more than his pilots at stake here. "Both are large enough spaces within the perimeter of the debris field to hide and be able to safely conduct launch and recovery of the air wing so we wont be stuck with our hands tied behind our backs if the Cylons show up."

He didn't want to say it but as Bowman listened to Adonia he had come to realise that 'Bingo's misfortune could actually work to their advantage in that the Cylons may now concentrate their efforts in this area while Hermes slips away to a new hiding spot. He was sorry for thinking it but the truth is usually hard especially in war. As he looked down at the results of the Viper reconnaissance missions Bowman immediately recognised a problem. Hermes was going to have to leave the cover of the Erebus Belt to travel to these new locations since unlike the Vipers and Raptors the immense Battlestar was too big to travel straight through the debris and the distance was so short that an FTL jump was inadvisable since it would be difficult-to-impossible to calculate that accurately with so much floating debris to consider. For a moment he contemplated the possibility of remaining in this location and hoping that the Cylons wouldn't stumble across them but he knew that was a gamble with the other player holding all the cards.

"Pull another Raptor from group ten and have them assist in the search for 'Bingo'!" ordered Bowman much to Adonia's relief. "Have the third Raptor make a scouting run along the edge of the belt. I want to see what's out there before we stick our heads above the trench. Until we relocate I'm going to put a halt on all further runs to Scorpia. I don't want to risk our Raptors losing us whilst enroute."

"Yes sir!" acknowledged Adonia as he lifted the handset to speak to the hangar deck.

"And Adonia" added Bowman cutting off Adonia's sudden enthusiasm. "Regardless of whatever situation 'Bingo' is in, if the rescue team have even a hint of Cylon activity they are to turn tail and run. I don't want any more of our people shot down. Clear?" Adonia knew immediately what Bowman was referring too. Bowman's grandfather had been a combat search and rescue pilot in the first Cylon War and had told him that it was a common tactic for the Cylons to leave a wounded ship drifting in space so as to ambush a would-be rescue team. The Erebus Belt offered the perfect location for any such ambush.

"Understood sir!" said Adonia before speaking with the hangar deck to relay the orders.

* * *

RESCUE MISSION

'Hot Top' peered through the transparent canopy of her Viper Mark VII to watch as the first two Raptors left the port side Hangar pod. The eight supporting Vipers had sat alongside Hermes' port Hangar Pod waiting patiently for the Raptors to launch. Time was of the essence if they were to effect a rescue of their comrade. There was less than an hour before the group nine Raptors returned and that was when Bowman was planning to pull out depending on the results of the initial scouting mission by the third Raptor from the now aborted group ten.

With the two Raptors now free of Hermes 'Hot Top' ordered over the wireless, "Ok Blue team you're with me on a defensive posture around the Raptors. 'Slammer' and 'Jo-Jo' take Raptor Two-One-Niner. 'Boxer' and I will take Raptor Zero-Seven! Red team take flanking positions on our extremities! Let's cast the net! We don't have much time so let's make sure we don't miss anything."

The Vipers took their positions and the formation of spacecraft began their journey through the Belt in search of their missing man. Not long behind them a third Raptor piloted by the current CAG, 'Stinger', left the Hangar pod but instead of following the rest its ventral thrusters fired as its nose thrusters turned it to face the opposite direction before firing again to hold it in place as it lifted over the Hermes' port hangar pod and began to make its way out of the Belt.

"We're clear of Hermes" reported 'Stinger' to 'Walleye', his ECMO who sat in the rear compartment monitoring his screens.

"I always hated this part of the business" joked 'Walleye'. "I always feel like we got a big bullseye painted on our hull."

"Yea I know what you mean" said 'Stinger' smirking. "But the sooner we get this done the quicker we can get back to gathering up the supplies from Scorpia."

"I wish we could go after 'Bingo'. I hope that frakwood is ok" said 'Walleye' solemnly.

"Me too!" added 'Stinger' who tried to put the thought of losing another comrade behind him. "How's DRADIS looking?"

"Clearing up nicely" said 'walleye'. "We should be able to take a pretty good look around soon enough."

The two men readied themselves mentally for the task at hand. For all they knew there could be a dozen Baseships waiting for them. It took courage to be a Colonial Raptor pilot or ECMO, sometimes even more so than a Viper pilot! A Viper pilot at least has the option of fighting back and has maneuverability on his side. In it's basic form the Raptor is unarmed and is quite a lumbering ship compared to a Viper or a Raider. This is made worse when heavy armament is added as the craft's mass increases but the engine output remains the same. A Raptor crew's best chance of survival when engaged by Raiders is to escape with it's FTL or outwit them with its electronic warfare suite. All these factors were going through 'Stinger's mind as he readied himself for the mission ahead of him.

* * *

LIEUTENANT PHILO 'BINGO' ALLENFORTH  
ONE HOUR SINCE COLLISION

With no friction in space with which to slow him down 'Bingo's Viper had continued to slowly spin uncontrollably. Judging from the position of the largest rocks nearby some of which were several kilometres across he soon came to realise that he was drifting away from the collision point. There was barely any light in the Belt but what little there was outlined the debris while for the most part casting their surface into shadow.

'Bingo' had began to accept the hopelessness of the situation. He knew he was now forty minutes overdue and that in all likelihood Hermes would have assumed he was dead and that Cylons were swarming the area. Sitting in his crippled Viper he began to wonder what would kill him first; oxygen deprivation or the Cylons looking for their missing Raider. It was at that point he had come to realise his own acceptance of his impending fate. He made a pledge to himself and to his Gods that he wasn't going to die choking from a lack of oxygen and his eyes glanced down at his sidearm attached to his leg. He knew that the regular rounds in the chamber wouldn't work in a vacuum but he had one explosive round loaded into the chamber below the main barrel. That was fired by electromagnets along the chamber, a railgun, and thus didn't need oxygen to fire.

"Prepare for the worst and all that" he chanted to himself quoting the manual regarding sidearms in the cockpit. "Somehow I don't think this was what they had in mind?" he added quietly as he removed it from his holster. He knew the one explosive round was intended for fighting Centurions if he was shot down but as he held the gun in his hand part of him wondered if what they really meant was for times like this? That one round would make easy work of his helmet and his head inside. There would be no pain.

"What the frak was that?" he gasped suddenly!

As his Viper had spun something on the surface of a nearby planetoid caught his eye sparkling momentarily in the light. He waited with held breath for the Viper to rotate in it's direction once more. There it is again! There was definitely something metallic on the surface of the nearby rock. But what? It wasn't the Raider he had collided with. That was still partially visible on the opposite side of his relative position.

There was definitely something there reflecting the low light that was available to it. In his mind there was only one possible explanation. Cylons!


	25. Chapter 25

BATTLESTAR HERMES SICKBAY

The footsteps grew closer and closer as they slowly made their way towards Chloe Burmeister as she lay with her back to the rest of the room. As they got to within a few feet she soon began to realise that they were familiar somehow? They stopped just behind her and waited for her to acknowledge the person's presence. Feeling the visitor's eyes boring into the back of her body she felt compelled to turn over as she realised who the visitor was. With her left arm all but useless as a result of her self inflicted injuries Chloe had to use all her abdomen strength to turn herself over and her eyes looked up to find Caleb Dytto looking down at her with pityful eyes. She had dreaded this moment perhaps more so than her talk with Bowman? It was a strange comparison for Chloe but they way she felt at that moment was similar to when she was ten and had broken the glass in one of her 'Uncle Caleb's favorite pictures of him and her father. She felt like the world was going to end and that he would never forgive her but of course he did and yet here she was almost fifteen years later and once again she felt like that small child as he looked down at her with her limp arm draped across her chest.

For a few minutes neither of them could speak. She kept waiting for some long winded speech about the immorality of what she had done; getting pregnant outside of wedlock and then desecrating her own body! Both were major Taboos in Gemonese culture that called for strict religious codes of conduct to be adhered to at all times. The air between the two of them seemed to turn thick as if both were putting up a wall between themselves until finally one of them spoke.

"Why?" said Dytto mournfully. Not even he was sure where exactly the question was directed at since there were several things that he wanted to address that question to her about. Sensing that there was little she could say to make him understand any of this she simply turned her back to him and returned to the position he had found her in. Dytto became filled with rage. He wanted answers. He wanted her to tell him everything but her continued silence turned to anger and finally hatred. Before it manifested into a physical notion, and Gods know he could feel it building up inside, he turned away and left her there. For the first time in his life he had walked away from her when she needed him most.

* * *

'MAGMA'S RESCUE TEAM

Every minute that passed in the Erebus Belt gave each the two rescue teams the impression that it was one more nail in the coffin for their missing comrade. Not one member of the team was under any illusions about the possibility that he may already be dead and that they are risking their lives and equipment on a pointless effort that would prove ultimately fruitless. But hope can be a powerful driving force. Hope can force someone to do extraordinary things in the face of great hardship. The most cynical would describe hope as self deception or ignoring the hard truth but without hope all is lost and it was with that notion that the rescue team pushed on without hesitation. Except for one.

'Magma' held the controls of her Raptor firmly as it made its way through the belt with her ECMO 'Fuzz'. 'Hot Top' and 'Boxer' were providing cover in the their Vipers that sat on either side of the Raptor in a defensive posture. 'Fuzz' worked his DRADIS screens as he tried to make sense of the clutter from the Belt. The returns were proving able to spot an object immediately in front of them but were having a hard time distinguishing between a ship and a rock since the DRADIS returns had overlapping signals from the reflecting effect of the crystalline in the rocks.

"This is frakking hopeless!" said 'Magma' almost vemously. "Chances are the guy's dead! We should take Hermes and get out of here!"

"Not while there is a chance he is still out there praying like hell that someone finds him" shot 'Fuzz'! "We've lost too many people over the past month. What if it was you out there? Would you want us to just take off and leave you?"

'Fuzz' had hit upon one of 'Magma's most dominant traits - her sense of self preservation. If it was her she would indeed want the air wing to make every effort to find her but that same feeling of self preservation was telling her to get out of the Belt and leave 'Bingo' to die. It was shockingly selfish but 'Magma' could live with it.

"What the hell is that?" gasped 'Fuzz' as a blip appeared and then vanished momentarily. 'Magma's heart froze.

"What is it? Cylons?" she gasped!

"I-I don't know" replied 'Fuzz' as he stared at the screen waiting for whatever it was to reappear. "It might have been a ship but the returns are so confused it could have been anything. Bring us around!"

"What?" she wailed! "You said you didn't know what it was? It could be anything?"

"Yea or it could be 'Bingo'! What's the matter with you?" This was not how a Raptor crew should behave and both knew it. A Raptor crew should be harmonious like an orchestra but 'Magma' had a way of alienating all those around her. She was always the 'booby prize' for ECMOs without a pilot for one reason or another, made worse by the fact that an ECMO had already died on a mission with her in mysterious circumstances during the first few days after the destruction of the colonies. There was no evidence to suggest foul play on her part but the suspicion lingered. 'Magma', very reluctantly, acknowledged the order from 'Fuzz' and she turned the Raptor around. Maintaining radio silence except in emergencies the two escort Vipers had to follow every move the Raptor made without knowing where and why they were going in a new direction.

'Fuzz' kept a close eye on the screen as the Raptor retraced its route and suddenly there it was again.

"There it is!" he bellowed with enthusiasm. "Two-one-seven carom five-one-six! Let 'Hot Top' and 'Boxer' know we've found something!"

'Magma' half rolled the Raptor from side to side three times to signal to the escort Vipers that they had found something and intended to investigate. She looked out at 'Hot Top' who acknowledged the signal with a similar 'flapping' display before turning the Raptor on to the new heading indicated by 'Fuzz'. The flight of three spacecraft began passing a series of exceptionally large rocks the gravity of which had been drawing in smaller rocks for thousands of years. The concentrated crystalline deposits were still making a mess of the DRADIS returns but suddenly 'Fuzz' yelled out in his helmet, "Oh my Gods! It's him! We found him! We found him!"

"Where is he?" asked 'Magma' with a sense of urgency. 'Fuzz' guided them towards the signal that he had confirmed was a large remnant of a Viper. In the darkness of the Erebus Belt 'Magma' couldn't make out the Viper with her own eyes but could see a silhouette ahead and so she turned on the Raptor's poweful search light and trained it in the direction of what she thought was 'Bingo's Viper. The powerful beam ran up the nose of the crippled spacecraft and they quickly identified it as one of their own Vipers spinning slowly in space. Both the Raptor crew and the two escort Vipers waited with held breath as the light fell upon the cockpit. For a few seconds there was no reaction but then suddenly they could make out a hand moving frantically back and fore. "H-He's alive!" gasped 'Magma' with some glee being thankful that their mission wasn't a waste of effort. But the faint smile that sat across her face began to fall the closer they got to 'Bingo's Viper as she realised that he was desperately trying to indicate to something.

'Hot Top' had come to realise this too and she throttled her Viper ahead of the Raptor before coming to a stop just a few feet from 'Bingo' who was immersed in the powerful spotlight. She looked in and saw he was frantically trying to bring their attention to something every time his Viper spun around a certain spot. She glanced over in the direction and for a moment and something caught her eye. It was a sparkle! Only a momentary one as if a stray beam of light glanced off the hull of a spacecraft! She nodded to 'Bingo' that she had seen it before positioning herself in front of 'Magma's Raptor so that the two crew and 'Boxer' could see her. She reached into the pocket of her suit and took out a small flashlight and held it in the direction of 'Magma's Raptor. Using the flashlight she signalled that she had spotted something on the surface of the planetoid and gave rough directions to it. She then signalled that she intended to investigate before 'Magma' attempted a rescue. 'Boxer' pulled up alongside 'Hot Top' and the two of them proceeded away from the crippled Viper and Raptor in the opposite direction to whatever it was they were investigating. 'Hot Top' was smart enough to know that it was foolish to just go diving in and take a look. If it was the Cylons then they would blast them out of the sky in seconds.

'Magma' sat with her hands on the throttle ready for them to run if anything happened. The orders that were relayed down from Bowman by Adonia rang in her mind. _Regardless of whatever situation 'Bingo' is in, if the rescue team have even a hint of Cylon activity they are to turn tail and run. W_aiting for 'Hot Top' and 'Boxer' to identify what was out there she had every intention of carrying out that particular order if it proved to be a Cylon ambush.

'Hot Top' and 'Boxer' had used the debris in the Erebus Belt to mask their approach around the opposite side of the planetoid. Hugging the features of it's surface 'Hot Top' armed her weapon system and could only assume that 'Boxer' had done the same. As the two Vipers got closer to the object she lowered her landing gear. If they had been inside an atmosphere this action would have imposed a heavy drag on the otherwise streamlined Viper. 'Boxer' had immediately caught on to what 'Hot Top' was going to do and knew that he didn't have to follow suite. They were now just a few seconds away from the object which was laying in a crater. 'Hot Top' slowed her craft down and 'Boxer' emulated her until both were at a relative standstill. She leaned over to look at her wingman and signalled for him to remain here while she checked it out. 'Boxer' acknowledged as he prepared to cover his wingman before she moved her Viper closer until it was no more than a few feet from the circumference of the large indentation made into the planetoid by a collision that happened many thousands of years ago. At that point, with her finger on the trigger, she rose her Viper up over the wall of the crater and turned on her landing light that was situated on the forward landing skid. Although not particularly powerful the light allowed her to see what it was that was in the crater.

Expecting to see Cylons she was stunned to find her light was in fact shining on a blue and grey hull of a ship. Her finger instinctively moved off the trigger as she realised that she was looking at a section of a civilian transport ship that had landed in the crater. She floated her Viper around the ship as she inspected it and realising the significance of the find she turned on her gun camera to record what she was seeing. It was not long before her landing light passed over a name and 'Hot Top' mouthed the word as she read it. "Alexis!" Now having more of an idea of what the ship looked like she realised that it was in fact a Colonial Heavy Liner. The pilot, in what looked like an effort to stop the vessel floating off the immense planetoid, had dug the skids into the hard rock and there was some damage to them but not severe.

'Hot Top' glanced down at her clock that was counting down to Hermes' planned departure time. They had less than twenty minutes left! She couldn't waste anymore time so she fired her vertical thrusters and her Viper rose high above the crater for 'Boxer' to see that it was safe to continue with the rescue. There was a sudden thumping sound from the top of her Viper. She looked up to see if she had hit hit anything and gave out a high pitched shriek.

"Frak me!" she gasped in horror as the body of a man wearing just an ordinary business suit slid over the canopy of her Viper and off in to the Belt his body becoming just another piece of debris. She fought to calm her heart as it beat heavily in her chest from the shock. As she brought her Viper around to head back to the Raptor and 'Bingo' the light from her forward landing strut passed over two more bodies. "What the hell happened here?" As 'Boxer's Viper passed low over the ship he throttled up and the glow from the engines momentarily lit up the marooned spacecraft just enough for 'Hot Top' to get an overall look at the vessel. In the blue glow that the ship was bathed in 'Hot Top' could see that the main passenger air lock had been opened venting some of the passengers into space. She quickly calmed herself as she snapped out of her horrified gaze. They had to recover 'Bingo' and get back to Hermes.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Bowman could still feel the effects of the stims as the ship was recovering the three group nine Raptors that had just returned from Scorpia. With little to do he found himself beginning to pace around the Operations Desk in what could almost be viewed as an agitated state just to burn off a little of the excess energy. Luckily for him everyone was too busy concentrating on their jobs to notice.

"The last Raptor is aboard sir" said Adonia who had been speaking to the Hangar Deck.

"Very good. What's the ETA on our rescue teams?" asked Commander Bowman. Adonia checked the clock.

"They should be arriving back any minute now. Should I alert sickbay?" Adonia's request seemed almost empty in a way. As the hour drew on some of them in the CIC had given up hope of finding their missing pilot. They all expected to have one team back by now with him aboard if he was alive? Cutting it so close had made them come to think that the rescue teams hadn't found anything and that 'Bingo' was gone for good.

"DRADIS contact!" interrupted the voice of Petty Officer Durand who was currently manning Burmeister's position. "I'm getting a Colonial transponder. It's 'Stinger's Raptor!"

"Authenticate! Don't just take their word for it!" barked Bowman partly due to the stims but also partly due to the fact that if it was Chloe Burmeister at the station he knew he would never have to remind her to authenticate the contact. He missed seeing the young Captain at that station but above all he missed her expertise.

"Transponder codes are authentic!" replied the scolded Petty Officer.

Bowman picked up the handset from the Operations Desk and said to the communications officer on duty, "Patch me in to them! Short wave only!" He began to regret taking the stims as he seemed to find himself telling his crew what they should be doing when at any other time he knew he would never have to. When the communications officer acknowledged that the connection was ready Bowman spoke into the handset, "'Stinger' this is Hermes Actual! Report!"

"Actual this is 'Stinger!' No sign of enemy contact. We appear to have a straight run for the time being."

'Stinger' was no rook! He had used the Golden Words of any Raptor pilot in that he reminded everyone listening that for the time being at least they had a clear run to the new hiding place but in war that could change in less than a heartbeat and it would take Hermes well over an hour to transit.

"Very good!" replied Bowman. "Hold your position off our starboard bow until further notice! Actual out." Bowman hung up the handset on the desk and turned to Adonia. "Once our rescue teams are back aboard I want to go to Condition One and launch a full force CAP around the ship. Vipers and Raptors! The more eyes we have out there the better."

"Yes sir!" acknowledged Adonia who began speaking with the Hangar Deck once again.

"New contacts!" reported Durand. "One Raptor and six Vipers! I have authenticated their transponders. They're ours."

Both Bowman and Adonia shot worried glares at each other. They were missing a Raptor and two Vipers. They hadn't made the rendezvous and the clock had now expired. Bowman turned to Durand and asked, "Who are we missing?"

"'Magma' and 'Fuzz's Raptor. 'Hot Top' and 'Boxer' were flying escort."

Each name that Durand called out left a hard lump in Bowman's throat until he felt like he could no longer breath as his stim fuelled mind worked overtime. The clarity that Bowman normally relished was gone replaced by a confusing whirlwind of emotion and tactical logic that was binding together to disorient the Commander. He had managed to keep himself calm on the surface as any Commander should in this situation but inside he realised he was a mess.

"What are our orders sir?" asked Adonia.

Bowman took a deep and cleansing breath before answering, "Recover the rescue teams then go to Condition One. Make preparations to leave!" As Adonia carried out his orders Bowman uttered to himself, "Gods forgive us!" In his mind at that moment he had managed to break through the confusion to come to the realisation that Cylons were indeed in the immediate area and worse still his order for a rescue mission had in fact cost him four more lives.

It took several minutes to recover the rescue teams. For the pilots and deckgang the effort was made more difficult by the sombre feeling of loss that reverberated around them like they had been made to wear water drenched clothes as they worked. Sure enough the rescue teams were aboard and the Vipers were soon being refuelled ready to launch again to provide CAP for the Hermes as it made its way to the new hiding place. The clock now read thirteen minutes and twenty two seconds since the rescue teams were due back and still there was no sign of 'Magma's team.

"Rescue team is aboard" reported Adonia. "We're ready."

"Ok" said Bowman almost breathlessly. He took in another deep breath before ordering confidently, "Set Condition One! Launch the CAP!"

Adonia's voice boomed through the ship's loudspeakers calling the crew to action stations. Despite the damage they had sustained. Despite the low moral among many of them. Despite the losses they had taken and were seemingly still taking the professionalism of the crew remained untouchable and the ship was brought ready for action in near record time.

"We just have to pray they make it to the new hiding place on their own." Bowman's words were more for his own benefit than anyone else.

* * *

'MAGMA'S RESCUE TEAM

'Bingo' sat in the rear compartment clinging to the cargo netting that hung behind 'Magma's seat as though he were holding on to life itself. His eyes were staring a thousand yards in to nothingness as his mind replayed the image of the end of his own gun barrel staring him in the face and the vision of him taking his own life. He had stood up to the cliff's edge and had been pulled back from the brink but part of him was still there. Part of him couldn't let go of the fact that he was so ready to kill himself even if it was purely to chose the lessor of two evils?

'Magma' wasn't sparing the horses as she raced her Raptor through the Belt. For all her angry and sometimes cowardly nature she was a skilled Raptor pilot and as 'Fuzz' instinctively gripped on to his console for support he had to admit to himself that he was glad to have her flying right now. They had to take risks in order to get back to Hermes. The truth was they had taken too long rescuing 'Bingo'. Firstly, because of 'Hot Top's investigation into the mysterious craft and secondly since the Raptor wasn't fitted with specialist rescue grapplers, 'Fuzz' had to improvise when it came to stopping 'Bingo's Viper from spinning. They used a cargo line from the Viper to hook around the Viper's nose and then using the Raptor's thrusters they yanked the Viper in a new direction thus stopping the spin for 'Bingo' to get out. The side effect of this was that the Viper was now drifting towards the floating rocks and no doubt crashed shortly after they had left with 'Bingo' on board safe and sound. 'Magma' looked down at her clock that was synchronised with the one in Hermes' CIC. It read twenty three minutes and five seconds.

_Bowman won't leave us behind!_ she thought to herself in an effort to reassure her own fraying nerves.

'Fuzz' had been calling out course corrections all through the flight back until suddenly he stopped and fell back in to his chair.

"Gods!" he sighed to himself just loud enough for 'Magma' to hear over the intercom.

"What is it?" barked 'Magma'! "Come on 'Fuzz' where are these frakking directions back to Hermes? This all looks the same to me!"

"Stop the engines!" he said.

"What?" gasped 'Magma!'

"I said stop the engines!" repeated 'Fuzz'. "Hermes is gone! They've left without us!"

It was true! All of 'Fuzz's navigational displays and DRADIS returns, regardless of the clutter, pointed to one thing; where there should have been a Battlestar there was now just empty space in the Erebus Belt. The only indication of there ever having been a ship there were three very late little spacecraft looking for their mother ship.


	26. Chapter 26

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

The early morning sky above the Marines was brisk and cool, not that they could feel it in their NBC clothing. There were few birds in the sky where not so long ago there would have been many. Radioactive clouds from the bombing hovered high in the flight path of the migrating birds poisoning and killing them within a few days of the attack. Being small animals it didn't take long for them to die. Unbeknown to the Marines, and probably even the Cylons, several species of birdlife had already died out on the former colony. But the skies above the Marines were missing something else. Something only they knew should have been there; three Raptors! The Group Ten Raptors were now almost half an hour late and Group Eleven was also a few minutes late. With no way of communicating with them or Hermes Lt. Adrastos and his men could only speculate as to what had happened to them.

Adrastos had decided to make the most of the delay and allow his men to rest. Gunnery Sergeant Callisto sat in the corner with his rifle nestled between his arms and legs as though he were holding on to his first born child. Draped over the transparent plastic eyepieces was a torn black refuse bag tied on to the frame of the mask to block out the light so he could sleep easier. It was a trick he learned in basic training from his Drill Sergeant and he never forgot it.

Also in the room that served as a makeshift command centre for the Marine detachment was Private Myers who was manning the portable transponder unit waiting patiently for a signal from an approaching Raptor group. As every minute passed and no signal came through Myers' anxiety grew and grew until finally he couldn't keep quiet any longer and he turned to his C.O. and said, "Sir?"

"What is it Myers?" asked Adrastos as he peered through the dusty windows out on to the truck yard.

"Hermes!" he said almost worried about the answer he was looking for. "They wont have just left us will they? I mean..." Adrastos turned around to face his subordinate who was struggling to find the words as he felt the pressure of having Adrastos's eyes on him. Adrastos's eyes glared at Myers who felt his confidence deserting him and he was reduced to silence.

"It's a bit early to be worrying about that just yet Private!" said Adrastos feigning a laugh as if the fact that they hadn't seen or heard anything from two Raptor groups now was something that happened everyday. "We knew from the moment we left Hermes that chances are some of the Raptor groups would be delayed. There could be hundreds of reasons why they haven't shown. It could be something simple like the Raptors have gone unserviceable or they have stumbled upon a Cylon patrol and are just waiting for them to pass by. It's too early to be umping to worst case scenarios just yet. Keep focused on your work okay Marine?"

"Yes sir!" said Myers feeling a little foolish.

Adrastos turned back to the window. He didn't know how much of what he said to Myers he believed himself but as the Commanding Officer he had to exert an air of confidence even if the truth was it was only on the surface. Although he told Myers not to think about worse case scenarios he was already running through the contingency plan that was in place should the unthinkable happen and Hermes' Raptors never return for them. If after thirty six hours there was no contact he would take his men along with all the supplies they could carry and head into the countryside. They knew that there were resistance cells out there and his primary aim was to join up with one and continue the fight. Adrastos was not afraid of combat, no more so than the average Human being, but the thought of spending the rest of his life in the woods of Scorpia fighting for survival every single day from Cylons and prolonged radiation exposure was not an appealing prospect.

He decided to take his own advice and put it to the back of his mind to concentrate on the present. He just had to hope that soon enough there would be three Raptors coming over the horizon and he and his men would be grumbling once again as they loaded them up with supplies.

* * *

'MAGMA'S RESCUE TEAM

With the Hermes gone the rescue team was left with a problem. They couldn't catch up with Hermes and the other Vipers travelling at sublight speed because they had a good twenty five minutes head start. They were left with two possibilities; they could cut directly through the Erebus Belt in an effort to catch up with them or alternatively 'Magma's Raptor could jump directly to the new hiding place since unlike Hermes it was small enough to make the jump safely.

"And what about 'Hot Top' and 'Boxer'?" 'Fuzz's voice was filled with rage at 'Magma's suggestion. How could she so callously talk about leaving two of their comrades to fend for themselves without the support of the Raptor? In all likelihood there were more Cylons running around the Belt probably looking for their missing Raider.

"What do you suggest we do?" pleaded 'Magma'.

"We need to stick together" said 'Fuzz'. "Strength in numbers. I could probably triangulate where Hermes is right now and use that to plot an intercept course. We could cut through the Belt and come out just ahead of them. Hermes needs to know about what we found. The parts and the fuel onboard that Colonial liner is vital to the ship. We need to get a salvage team back there before the Cylons find it!"

'Magma' looked away like a scolded child. Her eyes searched for something to latch on to and found 'Bingo' still sitting in the aft compartment. While he was there in body it seemed as though his mind and soul were elsewhere. He had accepted his own death in the Viper and had yet to pull himself from that frame of mind. It was a stark contrast to what 'Magma' was feeling. She was feeling very much alive and she intended to stay that way.

She weighed up her options again. To jump to the new hiding place would leave their Raptor sitting there waiting for over an hour without any armed escort. 'Magma' didn't think that her nerves could take just sitting there waiting for the Hermes to arrive. It was the metaphorical equivalent of tip toeing passed a sleeping Lion. You don't know if it's suddenly going to wake up and kill you. 'Fuzz's plan was not without it's problems either. If his calculations were off even slightly then they could end up too far ahead or even behind Hermes. Whichever option they took the Cylons were a constant threat. They just didn't know how many were in the Belt?

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES

With it's Vipers swarming around it the Battlestar Hermes was looking every bit the weapon of war it once was. Even with her battle scarred hull the ship exerted an air of strength and power. A few minutes ahead of the Battlestar was 'Stinger's Raptor providing early warning of Cylon vessels. Another Raptor was behind them checking that they weren't being followed. A third Raptor stuck close to the Hermes to support the Battlestars' own sensor suite. The little 'fleet' hugged the Erebus Belt as closely as they could to make the most of the residual interference that circulated around it.

Commander Artimus Bowman could feel the effects of the stims he had taken beginning to wear off. He searched inside for the remaining strength that he could muster but taking the stims had sapped most of it away and he found himself leaning up against Operations Desk. He strained his tired eyes as he examined the confusing clutter on the DRADIS screen hanging from the centre of the ceiling. The displays only displayed the returns down to a certain strength. Unable to make head nor tail of the display he turned to Petty Officer Durrand who was still manning the tactical station. The tactical station had the benefit of being able to analyse the signals in great depth rather than just display what was returned but like any tool it was only as good as the person operating it.

"How are we looking out there Durrand?" asked Bowman leaning over his station. Bowman's words were a little softer than they had been to him earlier. He felt that he was a little unfair to the young man and was venting his frustrations on to him.

"I'm not detecting anything substantial as of yet sir" replied Durrand. "But there's a lot of clutter out there and I'm having trouble getting through it all."

"That's the very reason we chose this place. Just do your best. That's all I can ask" he said like a compassionate father.

"I will sir" said Durrand before adding, "The truth is, sir, that no one is better at this than Captain Burmeister." Bowman nodded in agreement before standing up and looking around at his team. He knew he could not have asked for a finer crew but it was clear that everyone was on edge. That was not a bad thing. A good sense of fear sharpens the senses and he didn't want anyone to take what they were doing lightly. But there was something else that was bothering him and them. They felt incomplete somehow and he knew exactly what it was.

Bowman turned to Major Adonia and said, "Major! You have the con! I will only be two minutes. It's time I kicked someone in the ass!" Bowman left the CIC in a rejuvenated fury leaving the crew to only speculate what he meant. Some thought he was going to get Dytto and dreaded seeing his twisted and bitter looking face in the CIC again. When he wasn't there the room seemed to run more smoothly. Only Durrand had realised where he was actually going.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES SICKBAY

"Captain Burmeister! Ten-hut!" Bowman's voice roared over the top of Chloe in a tone she had never heard before. It was almost as if he were furious with her and it was a sharp shock to her system considering all the sympathy she had been given from him up until now. Bowman had stormed in to sickbay passed Deverouxwho protested strongly but Bowman had thrown the doctor to one side. He was indeed angry but just as angry at himself for letting it get this far. He had let Chloe drowned in her own self pity for long enough and although he knew it might harm the warm relationship that had fostered between them since he came aboard he knew this was for her own good as well as the ship's. _Tough love _he thought and if that wasn't enough he needed her in the CIC manning her station. She was the best Tactical Officer with whom he had ever served and he needed her at her post.

"Did you hear me Captain?" he spat angrily at her lack of movement. "I said on your feet!"

He reached over to grab hold of her good arm and pulled her off the bed. Chloe was almost terrified as she now stood before him with her limp left arm dangling down her side. The ferocity of his pulling her off the bed had caught her totally unaware. She seemed to be caught with her guard down and that was Bowman's intention. He didn't want to give her chance to catch her breath because if she did then the effect might have been lost.

"Commander Bowman!" protested Deveroux but he completely ignored it.

"Captain Burmeister!" continued Bowman undeterred. "This vessel is at Condition One and you are not at your post which in times of war can be considered disertion and punishable by Court Martial! Your injuries do not prevent you being in CIC to advise and assist in making sure that we get your sorry ass and five thousand other sorry bastards on this ship to a safe hiding place. I expect you to be in CIC within ten minutes and you will conduct yourself in a manner that at least resembles an officer in the Colonial Fleet!"

Chloe no longer saw the Bowman she once knew standing before her. Instead she saw the personification of the military spirit; discipline, professionalism, courage. Three things that had deserted her recently. Her emotional safety net in him was gone and her training seemed to flood back to her because all that she was now left with was her experience at her job. It was a lonely feeling but no more lonelier than she had been feeling laying on that bed. She tried to stand at what appeared to be attention before stuttering, "Y-Yes sir!"

Bowman saluted her and turned to be confronted head on by Devereaux.

"Commander Bowman!" he stated strongly and as authoritatively as he could. "You may command this ship but on matters of medical issues I have final say."

"I'm not interested Doctor right now Doctor I am needed in CIC! We are still at Condition One and we are not out of the woods yet" said Bowman as he stormed passed the Doctor towards the door but not before turning to the Doctor and saying almost jokingly, "If you wish to file a complaint please do so. You can address it to Picon Fleet Headquarters."

The joke didn't amuse anyone as it was a reminder to all including Bowman that their homeworlds were gone. With Bowman out of the room Deveroux turned back to see that Chloe was indeed gathering her things in order to get ready for duty. _Humans! _Leaving Chloe alone Deveroux returned to another one of his patients, D'anna Biers who was receiving another intravenous radiation sickness medication.

"What was that all about?" asked D'anna quietly as Cylon spoke to Cylon.

"Just a little mid voyage entertainment" joked Deveroux.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

The hatch opened and Chloe Burmeister braced herself. She knew what was ahead of her. She had prepared herself for the long stares from the crew and had experienced some of it on her way back to her post in the hallways leading from sickbay to CIC. Bowman and Major Adonia were checking on the vessel's progress on the chart laid out across the Operations Desk when Adonia spotted Burmeister. Bowman looked to see what he was staring at and also saw her. He noticed that everyone in the room had stopped and was looking at her. He knew that it must have been a daunting experience for her and that she was fighting the urge to run away. He had to act decisively.

"Captain Burmeister, Petty Officer Durrand is currently manning your station. Please assist him!"

Bowman's authority reverberated around the room and snapped everyone back in to line as they resumed their duties.

"Aye sir!" she replied more confidently than she had done in the sickbay. She walked over to Durrand and the relief on the young man's face at seeing her again was clear to all. "What are we...I mean, SITREP!"

"Yes ma'am" said Durrand smiling at her little slip up. Durrand began to fill her in on their progress thus far and Bowman watched as he saw it all come flooding back to her. Except for the bandages on her arm it was like nothing had changed.

* * *

'STINGER'S RAPTOR

Even though there were four Vipers escorting him and the rest of the air wing was only a few minutes behind them 'Stinger' felt naked being so far away from the Battlestar. It was a feeling he had become accustomed to flying advanced guard and reconnaissance missions since the war started but he still felt as though he was being stalked by a predator. Maybe he had every reason to be?

"Hey!" said 'Walleye' under his breath but just loud enough for 'Stinger' to hear.

"What is it?" asked 'Stinger'.

"I thought I had something then" explained 'Walleye' as he worked the Electronic Countermeasures Station. He replayed the data and for a moment it appeared that there were three contacts on a parallel course to their own but inside the Erebus Belt. "It could be just three confused returns. I'm not get anything else but...Oh frak there it is again. There's definitely someone in there! At least three contacts!"

"Send a coded message to Actual!" said 'Stinger'. "Let them know we may have something."

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Bowman read the coded low frequency transmission from 'Stinger' before handing it to Adonia to read. The low frequency was just strong enough to transmit a series of 'beeps' that the computer translated into a message. This was necessary in order to reduce the risk of the signal being detected by the Cylons.

"Cylons?" speculated Adonia.

"In all likelihood" said Bowman. "Or...It could be our missing Raptor team?" Bowman's words seemed to spark enthusiasm from everyone in CIC. "Have 'Stinger' and his escorts enter the belt and investigate! Bring 'Dingle's Raptor up to replace 'Stinger' on advanced guard!"

"Aye sir!" replied Adonia.

* * *

'STINGER'S RAPTOR

"Actual wants us to investigate" said 'Walleye' as he read out the decoded message appearing on his screen.

"Ok!" said 'Stinger' as he signalled to the escort Vipers to follow them in to the Belt. As 'Dingle' approached in his Raptor with his own escort of Vipers to replace his group 'Stinger' pulled away and headed back in to the Belt with four Viper MkVIIs. Almost immediately the DRADIS interference increased and 'Walleye' was having to sift through streams of confusing returns as he searched for the three objects that had appeared on his screen. "Anything?"

"Not yet" replied 'Walleye'. After travelling several kilometres into the Belt they decided that this was far enough considering the level of interference they were getting on DRADIS. They had come to conclude that it was merely some anomaly created by the confused DRADIS returns and so they turned back towards Hermes. _Bad nerves that's all_.

'Walleye's panel suddenly began wailing loudly. The DRADIS was detecting an uninterrupted contact which meant it was close! "Oh frak! Break right! Break right!" 'Stinger' acknowledged as he threw the Raptor in to a hard right bank. One of the escort Viper pilots, 'Chester', had only moments to react as he looked to his left and saw the roof of a Raptor hurtling towards him. He pulled back on his controls and his ventral thrusters fired sending his Viper darting upward. Not wanting a collision as a result of trying to avoid one 'Chester' instinctively looked upward for his wingman, 'Scoop', or any debris that might now be in his new direction of flight. He quickly identified 'Scoop's Viper in his top right quadrant despite the low light. Fortunately he was a safe distance away from his own craft. Suddenly 'Scoop's Viper lurched to the side as if taking evasive action but there was nothing apparent to 'Chester' that he was avoiding until 'Scoop's Viper became surrounded by weaponsfire that lowered down on to the little ship cutting through it's hull and exploding.

"Frak! 'Scoop' just got whacked!" screamed 'Chester' breaking radio silence. 'Chester's startled eyes glanced down as he activated his DRADIS to search for the enemy. Three new targets were racing overhead. He looked up and saw in the light the outlines of three bat like spacecraft. "Cylon Raiders!" Before he could even report their position he had to throw his own Viper into a hard left turn as the lead Raider broke formation and dived headlong towards him. He cut power to his main engines and tilted the nose upward. The inertia carried his craft on in the same direction but as his nose came around he throttled his main engines into full burn moving him out of the line of fire and the Raider shot at nothing but empty space. Still in full burn 'Chester' brought his Viper around behind the lead Raider as the other two Vipers covered him against the other two Cylons who were trying to box him in. As he positioned himself behind the wildly maneuvering Raider he waited as it cut it's own engines and tried to bring his guns to bare. It was a gutsy maneuver since it left the defensive Raider travelling in a straight line but the 'brain' was trying to reduce the risk to itself by utilising the Raider's high turning rate. It didn't work. 'Chester' fired away almost frantically in the direction of the Cylon trying to make the most of this opportunity. By luck alone several of the rounds found their target in the Raider causing it to twist perfectly into 'Chester's line of sight and as the remaining rounds ripped the Cylon apart it exploded as weaponsfire reached it's fuel stores.

"Yea!" screeched 'Chester'. "That's for 'Scoop' you bastard!"

The now outnumbered remaining two Cylons tried desperately to organise themselves into offensive posture but the three Vipers, watched over by 'Stinger' and 'Walleye's Raptor, kept the pressure on. One of the other Vipers had forced a Raider to do a hard turn as it tried to avoid it's fire but this served only to lead it toward 'Chester'. The fire from a Vipers guns is devastatingly effective against a Raider especially when the Cylon is flying straight into it! As the Raider exploded 'Chester' banked to the left to avoid the debris. Suddenly two Vipers darted passed his craft with only a few feet of separation between them.

"What the hell?" gasped 'Chester' as he experienced yet another near-miss in the confined space of the Erebus Belt. "Who the hell is that?" he roared over the radio.

"Quit your bitching 'Chester'!" replied the rather blunt voice of 'Hot Top'.

"Hot Top!" he yelled in delight. "Gods am I glad to see you!"

"Save it for later" replied 'Hot Top'. "You've done a sloppy job as usual you've still got one left!"

No matter how good a pilot the 'brain' of a Raider is the last Cylon knew that to fight on was futile. The Raider broke off from the fight and tried to flee.

"He's making a run for it!" said 'Boxer' as the three Vipers formed up on his and 'Hot Top's wing.

"He may try and jump away! We got to stop him or it's game over! He'll be back with all his buddies" announced 'Hot Top'. "Breath smoke!"

Although none of them had a killing solution on the rapidly maneuvering Raider they nevertheless opened fire in its direction in the hope of at least catching him slightly to slow him down. The Raider began to spool it's Faster-Than-Light drive system. Tillium fuel began pouring into the jump drive as it quickly powered up. It was suddenly immersed in a brilliant flash of light as it's jump drive engaged but the Raider didn't complete the jump. Before it could fully power up the jump drive one of the Vipers managed to get a direct line of sight on the Raider and ruptured the its Tillium fuel tanks with weaponsfire. Starved of fuel the Raider couldn't make the jump and was destroyed in brilliant flash of fire, the explosion sending shards of debris in all directions.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Adonia and Bowman watched the five remaining Vipers and two Raptors approach the Battlestar on the DRADIS screen. Bowman lifted up the handset and spoke into it.

"'Magma' this is Hermes-Actual. SITREP!"

The crew in CIC waited patiently for 'Magma's voice to crackle through the loudspeaker.

"Actual this is 'Magma'. Mission accomplished. We are bringing him home."

The crew exploded with cheers and applause. Although they had lost one Viper and it's pilot they had scored a victory today. By no means was it a significant victory but it was a victory nonetheless and the morale boost that came from it could not be measured. It was a short moment of joy on an otherwise melancholy ship.


	27. Chapter 27

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S QUARTERS  
30 DAYS SINCE THE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

Artimus Bowman nearly collapsed on to his bed. Although the stims he had taken almost three hours earlier had kept him awake long enough to get Hermes to it's new hiding place in the Erebus Belt the increase in his metabolism that was required to achieve this effect had exhausted his last reserves of energy. Although he was aware of the discovery of the Colonial Heavy Liner he decided to put Burmeister in charge of analysing the footage from 'Hot Top's Viper with Imlay's assistance to determine the feasibility of a salvage operation. He expected to hear her report in four hours. That was how long he had given himself to rest. Although his body would no doubt crave more he reasoned that some sleep would be better than no sleep.

His last orders before he left the CIC were to begin sending out Raptors escorted by Vipers to scout the immediate area for any sign of additional Cylon forces in the Belt and for a new hiding location should they have to once again relocate. All resupply operations had to remain halted for several hours since the FTL window was now closed due to the rotation of Scorpia. Adrastos and his men were now on the opposite side of the planet which meant that any Raptors jumping in would have to emerge from the jump hundreds perhaps even thousands of miles away and travel all the way across the planet to reach the distribution centre in The Northern Territories. The chances of detection would be extremely high.

The question that now faced the crew of the Battlestar Hermes was whether or not the three Cylon Raiders they had just destroyed were looking for their missing Raider, looking for Hermes or just a routine patrol? Regardless of whichever scenario was correct the fact of the matter was that the Cylons had lost four Raiders in the span of a few hours due to Hermes and it's air wing hiding in the Erebus Belt. This posed a real problem. It was not going to take the Cylons long to notice they had four birds missing and despite all the cover offered by the Erebus Belt the more Cylons that come looking for them the greater the chance of detection.

As his eyes closed Bowman began to wonder if they had blown any chance of success in this operation?

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK

Commander Bowman was not the only one aboard Hermes feeling the exhaustion of the past few days. Deck Chief Robert Imlay and his gang of 'knuckledraggers' had experienced a dramatic change in the tempo of their operations to keep the air wing operational. From almost two weeks of hardly any activity in an effort to conserve fuel the deck gang was now pulling double shifts trying to keep the Raptors and Vipers flying. If they weren't repairing one ship then they were cannibalising parts from another. For the love of the Gods Imlay couldn't remember the last time he was in his rack. It must have been at least two days ago just before they began their preparations for the first Raptor down to Scorpia. Instead he had been taking some 'cat naps' perched in his chair inside his office. That way he could rest but at the same time be on hand if he was needed.

It was during one of these little naps that Captain Chloe Burmeister knocked on the door to ask for his assistance in reviewing the tape of the Colonial Heavy Liner taken from 'Hot Top's gun camera. Commander Bowman had specified that he look in to it rather than one of the 'snipes' down in the engine room since a Colonial Heavy Liner was more like an over sized transport shuttle than a Battlestar. In fact the Landing Decks of the Hermes were designed to be big enough for one of these vessels to dock with Hermes although this would leave that particular Hangar Pod unable to recover any Vipers or Raptors.

Rubbing his eyes that seemed to sting with tiredness he begrudgingly agreed to help her. While Chloe set up the projector screen on the wall of his office Imlay reached in to his desk drawer and produced a small half empty bottle of water, his own ration for that day. Although he knew it was a waste he dabbed his right index finger with a small splash of water and rubbed it into his eyes in an effort to wake him up a little more. With a cold breeze now grazing his eyes he looked up to see Burmeister struggling to set the small screen up with just one arm.

"Here let me help you with that Captain" he said standing up and walking over to her. With Imlay acting in place of her left arm they successfully put up the screen before going about the business of positioning the projector itself. Imlay had to rearrange several things on his desk before the digital data projector was finally in a good position to view the gun camera footage. Imlay couldn't help but occasionally glance at her limp left arm. Her uniform was covering the bandages but he knew they were there. Most of the military personnel had heard about what she had done but only Bowman, Deveroux and Dytto knew why. Imlay wondered if he should ask how she was doing but then thought that maybe she would prefer to just carry on as though nothing had happened. Sometimes sympathy from a friend or colleague, for all it's good intentions, can be like rubbing salt in to an open wound. The two of them took a seat in front of the screen to watch as the image of the ship was displayed in front of them. Imlay tore off some scrap paper and placed it on to a clipboard so he could take notes.

* * *

Bowman found himself walking the corridors of his ship. He didn't know where he was going? He just kept walking and walking. Miles seemed to pass but he continued onward without hesitation or even a hint of exhaustion. He soon found that he was chasing someone. A woman. He picked up his pace as he tried to get closer to her but no matter how fast he went she would always go around a corner just as he caught glimpse of her and would have to try and catch up with her again.

He soon found himself in CIC. To his amazement the room was empty! He stood near the Operations Desk as he looked around for any sign of his crew or the woman. As he turned on the spot for the third time she suddenly appeared in front of him. Bowman tried desperately to focus his eyes on her but all he could make out was her pale skin and bright blond hair that twirled along her face. She was standing no less than a metre from him and yet her face was completely obscured. He examined her shapely figure and saw that she was wearing a bright red dress that hugged her features alluringly. Although he couldn't figure out where or indeed who she was he knew that he had seen her before.

She lifted her hands up to his face and placed them on his cheeks. Her touch felt warm and sensual and as he felt her caress his face he couldn't help but get swept up in a feeling of euphoria. He became lost in her touch as she leaned over to him and kissed him delicately on the lips before looking at him.

"Do you know who I am?" she whispered. Bowman couldn't speak. No matter how hard he tried to move his lips the words wouldn't come out. Suddenly she twisted his head sharply to the right. Before he could respond he found himself in the shadow of a Cylon Centurion. The Centurion's guns blazed away and the bullets ripped in to Bowman's chest.

He awoke suddenly in his quarters with a cold sweat trickling down his face. He quickly came to realise that it was just a dream but as he lay there catching his breath he couldn't help but feel there was more to it than that. His mind tried desperately to make sense of it. _Who was she?

* * *

_

BATTLESTAR HERMES DECK CHIEF'S OFFICE

Imlay replayed the footage for the fourth time to confirm the notes he had made the previous two times. The image passed over the hull once more. Despite the dim light enough of the hull was visible for Imlay to make a fairly good evaluation of the ship. But the reason behind why the air lock was open escaped him. The vessel had all the signs that its landing on the large planetoid was deliberate. Both Burmeister and Imlay had come to agree that the act was no doubt committed in an effort to hide from the Cylons. So why then did the air lock malfunction? There was no sign of any damage other than some minor buckling on the landing struts so it hadn't been shot at.

"Could it have malfunctioned?" asked Burmeister knowing full well that she was clutching at straws.

"There's always a possibility. No system is built perfect. But the odds are astronomically high and even so the chances of it happening at the same time as when the ship is trying to hide from the Cylons are even higher. I suppose there's the possibility that it was damaged accidentally or deliberately and the force of the ship's rough landing might have caused it to open but...that is what we call a long shot Captain."

"Deliberately?" asked Burmeister wanting to check she had heard him properly.

"It's possible" said Imlay. "And I'm not just being a stereotypical engineer here and blaming it on a person and not the machine." Burmeister cracked a slight smile at his joke. "The question is why would someone do such a thing?"

Burmeister's smile was short lived. Her lips straightened as her mind placed her on the liner as they had touched down on the planetoid in an effort to hide from the Cylons.

"Maybe somebody snapped?" she said almost absent mindedly. Imlay glanced a curious look at her as he only just caught what she had said and suddeny she felt compelled to finish. "Maybe...someone onboard the Alexis couldn't handle knowing that their loved ones were dead? That their worlds were gone? Maybe someone thought it was better to die rather than live with the fact that they can't go home?"

Imlay suspected that she was probably referring more to herself rather than putting forward a theory as to how the passengers aboard the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis met their end. Imlay didn't know how to react to her at this point. Should he comfort her? Should he be afraid of her? A not-so-funny joke popped in his head regarding keeping her away from air locks.

"So," she said interrupting his train of thought. "I have to meet with the CO in about an hour. What are your recommendations for a salvage operation?"

Imlay rested his right elbow on top of his left arm that was placed across his chest for support as he subconsciously rubbed his dry lips while deep in thought. Memories of what had happened almost a week ago when they had tried to salvage Tillium fuel from the wreckage of a Battlestar were still fresh in his mind. He had lost three good people that day and he didn't want to lose anymore. He knew that any Extra Vehicular Activity (EVA) was going to be timely and difficult and made all the worse by the constant threat from the Cylons. He knew his already tired people would be under pressure in difficult circumstances and there was a high chance of something going wrong again. As he looked over his notes once more a voice started screaming in his head. Something was causing him to look at this from a different angle. He turned to Burmeister and said, "I think we should bring it here to Hermes."

"Is that possible?" she asked open mouthed.

"Well it would be easier to strip it of parts and fuel if it were docked in one of the Landing Bays. Starboard would be best since we are only using it in emergencies at the moment because the TCC has been destroyed."

Imlay didn't notice Burmeister's eyes close slightly at the mention of the destroyed Traffic Control Centre on the Starboard Hangar Pod as she swallowed the painful feeling that was tugging on her heart. He had no idea that when it was destroyed one of those who died was her fiancee.

"So you think you can repair it?" she said wanting to say something if only to get her mind off Joshua.

"Well there's no apparent damage to the engines or hull. The question here is did the pilot shut down his engines after landing? If he was smart then he would have because the heat plume from the engines would act like a signal flare to any passing Cylons. Now if that is the case then the ship would have had to switch to its APU to keep the life support systems on line." An Auxiliary Power Unit or APU works like a battery in a car. When the engines are running it is constantly charged but when the engines are stopped the APU takes over to power the vessels systems but has a limited operating time. On a vessel such as the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis the APU is large enough to last several days and still have enough energy to restart the engines.

"If he did can you replace the APU?" asked Burmeister.

"Gods no!" said Imlay firmly. "I don't have anything that big in storage! I think our best bet would be to take a Raptor APU and use it's energy to start just one of the sublight engines. Once it's ignited then it would start powering up the rest of the ship. As long as we keep the engines running we should have power. This, of course, is assuming that the sublight engines were shut down because if they weren't then they would have just idled their way right through the sublight fuel supply. If that's the case then we will have no choice but to take as much Tillium and other supplies as we can right there and then and leave the ship to the fate of the Gods because there's no way we could tow it back here."

"So your official recommendation is we attempt to pilot the ship back to Hermes?" asked Burmeister looking for confirmation. Imlay nodded.

"I think it can be done and we can do a lot with that ship although I am going to recommend that we don't reengage the life support systems until we find out what happened with the air lock. We wouldn't want the same thing to happen to us."

"Very well. Thank you Chief. I'm going to prepare my report for the, _argh_!" Burmeister had forgotten about her self inflicted injuries to her left arm as she attempted to lift herself out of the chair. As the weight bore down on it her injured arm had no choice but to give way and she slumped over to the side in pain. Imlay jumped to her aid and held on to her to prevent her from falling over completely.

"Are you ok?" gasped Imlay. She didn't answer. "Ma'am?"

"I-I'm fine Chief" she replied not too convincingly. "Just a moment of fatigue. I'll be ok. Thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I uh, I'm sure. I...have to make my report to the CO. Thanks again Chief."

Imlay watched as she left his office. He could sense her shame and felt overwhelming pity for her even though he had earlier thought she had been quite selfish doing what she did after all they were all in the same boat. He knew he had prejudged her wrongly but suspected that the sympathy he was now emanating towards her was in fact a reflection of the entire ship and it's story for more than once he had heard some of his deck gang asking the same old question. _Would it have been better if we had all died in the attack?_

_

* * *

_BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE

As Bowman listened to Burmeister's report he felt more awake than he had done back in CIC a few hours earlier. Although he only had a couple of hours sleep and had to fight the desire to stay in his rack in order to get up he had at least got enough rest to take the edge off. He was still a little confused by the dream however. His thoughts over the dream were exacerbated by the fact that he seldom recalled dreams even when he would wake up in the middle of one. Although he was absorbing all the facts of Burmeister and Imlay's report his mind still wandered off back to the woman who had haunted his dreams.

"So the Chief thinks it can be done?" asked Bowman summing up the past twenty or so minutes.

"Yes sir" acknowledged Chloe whose left arm was still aching from her mishap in Imlay's office. The atmosphere between the two of them had been uncomfortable from the moment Burmeister walked in through the door. Bowman was prepared for this and even though he hated this new and colder relationship with his Tactical Officer it was preferential to her sitting down in Sickbay wallowing in her own self pity.

"Ok" said Bowman as he thought for a moment before adding, "We will need a crew to pilot that thing back. Have Imlay assemble his team and ready three Raptors, two on escort! Have them ready to go within the hour. How long until the window to Scorpia opens again?"

"Four and a half hours sir" replied Burmeister confidently as though she knew it better than she knew her own birthday, the sign of a good officer who had all the answers her CO needed. Just like the officer she used to be.

"We need to get in touch with Adrastos and his men. We should also make preparations to resume the supply runs. We've lost too much time as it is." Bowman's mind was running hundreds of scenarios regarding his plan but he was now factoring in the shooting down of the Raiders and this was wreaking havoc with how he saw the operation playing out. It can't be good! But what choice did he have left? They had to press on or starve to death. The old saying_ nothing ventured nothing gained _rang in his mind as if to coax him onward.

Burmeister acknowledged the order before standing up and saluting her CO. Bowman returned the gesture and he found himself alone thinking about the Marines he had put on the ground and the upcoming effort to recover a Colonial Heavy Liner. As he thought about the liner he realised that a piece of the puzzle was missing. He knew exactly what it was. He had solved the problem with one of his closest officers and now he was going to solve another.

He picked up the intercom handset and contacted the CIC. "Have Colonel Dytto brought to my office at once!"

* * *

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER

Dytto stood in front of Bowman who sat lazily in his chair staring at him through straight and glaring eyes. Dytto just wore a dark green pair of cargo trousers and his standard issue tank top. As he stared at him Bowman thought that he was sure Dytto hadn't changed clothes since he had seen him in his quarters several hours earlier.

Neither men said anything for the first few minutes. Both of them lingered in each others presence as though they were testing the water with one another albeit for different reasons. From the moment he had been summoned Dytto had suspected he knew why he had been called. Frankly he was surprised it took this long for it to happen; Bowman was going to relieve him of duty once and for all and probably have him thrown in to the slum with the other _civilians_.

"Well?" asked Dytto getting impatient with Bowman's glances. "Aren't you going to say something?"

Bowman leaned forward with his elbows perched on the desk his finger tips touching together to form a roof giving the impression that he was in deep thought about something although in reality he had already played out this whole conversation in his head. Bowman held back a moment silently letting Dytto think he had taken the lead when in fact Bowman was in control of this whole encounter.

"What am I goin to do with you Caleb?" he asked allowing his hands to fall on to the table before leaning back in his chair.

"I know why you've called me here..._Commander!_"

"Oh! Please indulge me?"

"You've called me here to make my dismissal permanent. Your going to put me in the slum." Bowman chuckled as if telling himself a private joke. This only served to enrage Dytto but he kept the fire inside him at bay no doubt remembering that Bowman was a little more than just talk. The left side of his jaw could testify to that.

"Maybe one day?" said Bowman. "Let's be honest Caleb, you and I will never see eye to eye and that's sad considering that all we have left is each other. We are onboard what is probably one of the last ships of our race. Now I think I've been more than lenient with you over the past year but right now we are in it for the species and I can't afford to keep up that leniency any longer. You know in many ways it would be easier for me to just throw you in the slum and just forget you ever existed. But I think that would be a waste of resources." Dytto looked down at Bowman as he paused for a second to allow Dytto to let his words sink in. "I've got a mission. One I think that you are more than suitable for."

"A mission?" gasped Dytto! This was the last thing in the worlds he was expecting.

"We found a ship in the belt" explained Bowman. "Now it is a good distance away from here and there are probably Cylons lurking around looking for their missing comrades but we are going to attempt a recovery. As we speak Imlay is putting together a salvage team. He hopes that he can repair the vessel and pilot it back to Hermes where we can take what we need from it. I would like you to command the mission."

Dytto was so stunned he could have been blown over by a feather.

"You want me to command the mission?" he asked almost in disbelief.

"Yes!" said Bowman confidently.

"Why?"

"Do y'know" said Bowman as he rummaged through the back of his mind. "I remember Tolan asking me the same thing once. About you I mean. _Why do I keep you around?_ He wasn't the only one either. There were others. But they couldn't see what I saw when I first met you. You were strong willed. Confident! Maybe even a little arrogant? Perhaps that's why you never get on with so many of your superior officers? Maybe it was the fact that you didn't know how to play the game that made sure I got Hermes over you? But I saw those traits as for what they could be and that's why I kept you on even when you lost sight of them yourself. You were a damn fine officer once and I'm gambling that under all the bile and hatred that lingers over you that officer is still there. Now I could put Adonia on this but frankly he doesn't have your experience. It's up to you!" Bowman paused as he watched his words take effect before adding, "We don't have to like each other in order to work together on this."

Dytto felt as though the Gods had completely rearranged his whole universe. For the first time since he was relieved of duty he truly began to ponder his future aboard Hermes. His options had just been handed to him and he had to chose one now. This was a fork in the road that was Dytto's life and he had to make his decision now.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK

The assembled team stood waiting for the orders to proceed. Two of the Raptors had been fitted with the heavy armament configuration. Two large box-type anti-fighter launchers were mounted at an angle from the main hull of the Raptor and underneath the stub wings were two external cannon pods. Although a Raptor is a poor general purpose fighter due to its sluggish maneuverability compared to a Viper or a Cylon Raider this heavy armament configuration does go some way to make up for it. As with any weapon however it depends on the skill of the people using it.

Imlay was meticulous as he went about checking that he had everything he needed including an APU taken from one of the damaged Raptors. This was the third time he had checked it all and was confirming it on his checklist when he saw that Bowman was walking towards him across the Hangar Deck - with Dytto!

"Ah-ten-hut!" called out Imlay as his CO approached. The team suddenly jumped to attention.

"Stand your men at ease Chief!" said Bowman and Imlay quickly obliged. "What's your status?"

"We are ready to go sir" said Imlay. "Just waiting for the final word."

"Very well then Chief the word is given. With one addition. Colonel Dytto is going to lead this operation."

Imlay's eyes peered over at Dytto standing there in his gold flightsuit almost in disbelief. "Yes sir."

"Carry on Chief!" said Bowman and Imlay turned to his team as they boarded the one Raptor that was still in its basic configuration in order to make enough space for the team and their equipment. Bowman turned towards Dytto. "Just remember Colonel. I class this operation as a 'would be nice if...'. Should the Cylons show up don't get in to a fight. Call it off and come back. We will try again another day. Clear?"

"Crystal" replied Dytto who then began to make his way towards the Raptor.

"Colonel!" called out Bowman. Dytto stopped and turned back towards him. The whole Hangar Deck seemed to stop to watch as Bowman saluted Dytto. Dytto initially resisted but felt compelled to return the gesture. The two men stood saluting one another in respect to a fellow comrade-in-arms. The hostility between the two was not gone but an understanding had, for the moment at least, been reached.

* * *

_AN - As stated at the begnning of the Chapter it is now a month since the destruction of the colonies. For those looking for a reference to the actual series Hermes is now between the Season 1 epsiodes 'Tigh me up, Tigh me down' (where we first meet Ellen Tigh) and 'The Hand of God' (where Galactica attacks the Cylon Tillium refinery). At the end of 'Salvage' I have decided to compile a timeline comparison of both ships' stories._


	28. Chapter 28

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Yes! Thank you. Move them in to launch positions! Out." Commander Bowman hung up the handset of the intercom after speaking with the Hangar Deck. The three group eleven Raptors had been made ready for flight and were now just waiting for their crews to arrive in order to begin the next resupply mission to Scorpia. Standing beside the Operations Desk Bowman had mixed emotions running through his body. On the one hand he was glad to get the resupply operations underway again having felt that they had lost too much time relocating the ship but his confidence regarding the overall success of the operation was beginning to wane although he dare not show it to any of the crew. This was one of the burdens of command; the loneliness of being at the top. It was a feeling that was multiplied by the lack of Major Adonia who had retired to his rack.

Bowman looked around at the faces of everyone in the room at that moment. They seemed awash with his own doubts and anxiety as though they were somehow reflecting his own emotional state at that moment. Nevertheless they each persisted in carrying out their duties and he could only return their dedication with his enormous sense of pride he had for each and every one of them. Even Burmeister whom had fallen from grace in her moment of weakness but was now pulling through it with renewed vigour. If he had only one thing to be thankful to the Gods for as he commanded this ship in these dark days it was that he knew he had the right people under his command. He would not have traded any of them. He had been aboard for a year now and at first felt like an outsider, a feeling Dyttoreinforced on numerous occasions. But it was this fresh outlook that Bowman brought with him that allowed him to see each of them for what they were, their strengths and their weaknesses. Fate had brought him in at the right time.

"Excuse me sir!" said Petty Officer Durrand who was now manning his more familiar Communications station. Given the number of losses sustained by the military aboard Hermes over the last month many crewmembers were now covering or being trained to cover multiple stations. Bowman turned to face Durrand at his console which sat on the right hand side of the CIC and nodded in acknowledgement for him to continue. "The group eleven Raptors are ready to launch sir."

"Understood" replied Bowman. "Clear them for launch. Make sure that they know I want a full SITREP from the Marines on the ground before they lift off again! Let's see how we are doing."

"Yes sir!" replied Durrand before he spoke in to the microphone protruding from his headset. "Raptor zero-seven. Actual wishes to remind you to get a full SITREP from Red Team on planet...Roger that. You are cleared to depart. God's speed you. Hermes out." Bowman watched the three Raptors on the DRADIS screen as they disappeared in to the 'soup'.

"Three at a time!" he uttered to himself. _This is like trying to move the sand from a beach with a spoon_he thought privately to himself. In the planning phase he had convinced himself that it was necessary and that there was no other option open to him but as he stood there he began to wonder if the hope of resupply had blinded him to hard operational fact. Before he had returned to the CIC he took a moment to look over the fuel state for the air wing. Given the current expenditure of aviation fuel for Raptors and Vipers during the defensive missions in the Erebus Belt and on supply runs to Scorpia the Hermes would have exhausted it's remaining fuel supply in less than a week and a half. In that time only a fraction of the supplies available at the distribution centre would have been hauled aboard. It was yet another frustrating moment in a seemingly grueling day. If only just to vent he slammed his hands down loudly on to the Operations Desk much to the surprise of several of his crew.

Almost immediately Bowman felt somewhat embarrassed and a little voice appeared in the back of his mind reminding him to save such outbursts for when he was alone. But that was going to prove harder than he thought as the vented emotions soon began to mount up again. Not wanting to inflict any damage on the Operations Desk, although he had to admit that the idea felt good at the time, he put his mind to work on a way around the problem that was causing him so much agitation.

He felt the best place to start would be the distribution centre itself. He accessed the ship's digital computer Library via a control panel on the side of the desk next to the intercom handset. The image of the DRADIS returns that was normally displayed on the screen hanging down in front of him was soon replaced by the Library menu screen. He accessed the Library search engine and began a search for the pictures Burmeister and 'Magma' had taken during their initial reconnaissance mission. It was this site that was proving one of the biggest problems. During planning of the operation he had quite rightly anticipated that the Cylons were patrolling the area. Like all machines the Cylons crave regularity and it was with that in mind that he knew that they couldn't clear the yard of the trucks to make space for more than three Raptors because any Cylon patrol passing overhead would be used to seeing the same thing and would notice right away that something was up.

On a momentary whim, Bowman accessed the Library menu screen once more and called up a map of the Serena Valley and it's surrounding region. Almost immediately he had spotted the reason why he had felt compelled to do this. It was something he had noted and discarded during the initial planning stage but was now reconsidering using it. Located approximately fifteen miles south west of the distribution centre was an athletics field. The venue for the sports itself sat in the middle of an oval shaped stadium and was approximately one and a half miles in diameter. According to the ship's Library information it was owned by the University of Scorpia and as well as being used to house regional sporting events it was also used to train athletes and Physical Training Instructors. If coordinated properly there was enough space there to safely accommodate ten to twelve Raptors. Two major problems were immediately apparent with this plan however. Firstly the supplies would somehow have to be transported to the site and secondly an operation that big would eventually attract Cylon attention. The momentary distraction of this site served to only fuel Bowman's annoyance with himself for taking his eye off the ball and looking at a course of action he had already decided against.

He always said to himself that he would be the last one to say something was hopeless but as he stood there in CIC staring vaguely at a spot on a map he began to let doubt bare it's ugly head once more. He looked at the clock in the corner of the screen and saw that Dytto's team should soon be nearing the site of the crashed Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis and hoped they were having more luck.

* * *

COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS

If fate had not delivered the Alexis to the crew of the Battlestar Hermes then in all likelihood the ship would have remained silently hidden indefinitely. Over time the planetoid that had been made it's new home by a desperate crew seeking temporary refuge from the storms of war would attract the smaller pieces of debris in the area. As the planetoid would increase in size so to would its gravity and more and more rocks and other debris would be attracted to it or the planetoid itself might become attracted by the gravity of an even larger celestial body. Either way the ship would become buried inside a new planet or moon after several thousand years. According to ancient myth all of this has happened before and will happen again. Therefore it stands to reason that there may very well be ships from an earlier civilisation buried inside planets and other celestial bodies all over the galaxy as they tried to hide from some prevailing force.

The darkened cabin of the Alexis hid away the bodies of its passengers that floated silently in the air-less cabin that lead to an open air lock. Not all the passengers had died inside the cabin. As the inside of the ship rapidly depressurised when the air lock opened some of the closest people to the hatch would have been blown out in to empty space as the air quickly escaped. For the one hundred and twenty five passengers and crew of the Alexis their death was a terrible one consisting of freezing temperatures, decompression sickness and suffocation. Their last few seconds of life would have been spent gasping for air that simply wasn't there.

A brilliant white light suddenly emanated through the windows of the cabin casting itself upon the pale faces of those inside. It moved along the outside of the ship as if to examine the silent tomb. If the bulged eyes of the dead could still see they would fall upon a single Colonial Raptor as it hovered silently alongside the ship.

"My Gods!" uttered Chief Imlay standing in the rear cabin of the Raptor. Colonel Dytto sat up front with the pilot 'Sundried', a stocky looking Tauron. All five occupants were suited up in their respective spacesuits as 'Sundried' maneuvered the Raptor slowly up towards the opened air lock near the front of the ship just behind the cockpit. As the light cut across the opened hatch an arm could be seen protruding outward from the body of a young man whose clothes had got caught on the hinges of the air lock door.

Specialist Julie Gorseinon, a nineteen year old deck hand from Canceron, peered out of the visor covering her face to look at the Alexis for the first time. It took a few seconds for her eyes to register the man's arm since she was not accustomed to the sight of death. Despite all the action the Hermes had seen over the past month she had largely avoided baring witness to the carnage being down on the Hangar Deck until the day she viewed the body stuffed in to the crate taken from the Hellenic Traveller. Upon the sight of the woman she had shrieked uncontrollably but at this particular moment she was better controlled having mentally prepared herself for the things she assumed she might see aboard the Alexis. Nevertheless the sight of the body still upset her and she realised that no amount of mental training can truly prepare you for the horror of seeing death on such a scale.

Even Dytto was a little unnerved at the prospect of a ship full of dead bodies but he pushed through it in order to keep his head._ Emotion can get you killed. _He looked out at the Alexis as 'Sundried' positioned the Raptor a few feet alongside the opened air lock and thought that its aerodynamic design in some ways resembled a tropical fish. As 'Sundried' fired the thrusters to hold the Raptor in place the five passengers onboard felt the deck plates rumble before finally settling down.

"We're in position" announced 'Sundried'.

"Ok then" said Dytto. "Let's open the hatch and get started." Being in a combat environment the Raptor's interior was already depressurised to insure that if the hull was breached from enemy fire even minutely then there would be no resultant explosive decompression. Thus Imlay opened the hatch immediately after receiving Dytto's order. With the Raptor's spotlight trained on the open air lock Imlay climbed in to his Mobile Maneuvering Unit (MMU) to begin making his way over to the Alexis. With a safety cable hooked on to his MMU he leaped from the open hatch and began to glide away. As he transited over to the ship he saw that he was rising up away from the air lock and nudged the control stick forward and across to get him back on course. After just a few seconds he reached the air lock and with the forward inertia still pushing him onwards he found himself stumbling through the dual hatches almost uncontrollably. His arms waved in a fruitless effort to grab hold of something to stop himself but in the end he rather unceremoniously found himself stopped by the adjacent wall.

"Chief!" Dytto's voice rang in his headset over the shortwave personal wireless. "Chief! You ok?"

"Yea" he replied as he brought himself back under control all the while silently cursing himself for making such a rookie mistake. "Yea I'm good." He switched on his spotlight protruding over his right shoulder from his MMU and began searching for something to hook the safety cable on to. As he brought himself around to the right the light illuminated in to the main passenger cabin. "Oh my Gods!" he gasped almost breathlessly as he looked upon the people floating across the aisle and over the seats.

"Chief!" called out Dytto once again snapping Imlay out of his horrified gaze. "Chief!" Imlay's eyes pulled away from the horrific sight before and saw that there was a handrail running along the stairwell leading up to the cockpit. He unhooked the safety cable from his MMU and attached it to the handrail making sure the D-ring was screwed on tightly. "Chief?"

"Ok" he replied. "It's done. Come across." While Dytto and the rest of Imlay's team hooked themselves up to the safety cable and began to pull themselves across Imlay removed the bulky MMU so that he was better able to move around inside the ship.

"Good work Chief" said Dytto whose voice was transmitted across the shortwave wireless. Dytto unhooked himself from the safety cable and took hold of the handrail to stop himself from floating away as he waited for the rest of the team to come aboard. "Ok this is your ball Chief. How do you want to play it?"

"Well I need to get down in to the engine room and hook up the Raptor APU to one of the engines. Once the engine is started it should provide enough power to start the others and away we go. If the ship's own APU is down then we will have to keep the engines burning at all times until we reach Hermes otherwise we are out of power and dead in the water."

"Understood" acknowledged Dytto as Specialist Gorseinon pulled herself inside with the spare APU floating beside her attached to another cable. It was a small device that Dytto reasoned to be no bigger than a lunch box. "Are you sure that thing is going to be powerful enough to start one of those engines?"

"Well it only needs enough power to start the ignition process. After that the engine will take over." Imlay looked at Gorseinon as she stood there looking down in to the passenger compartment mesmerised by the bodies. "Gorseinon!" Imlay tugged her arm to get her attention. Surprised, Gorseinon jumped and with no gravity stopping her she drifted in to the ceiling. Imlay pulled her back down again and checked she was ok. Gorseinon simply nodded in a manner that betrayed her desire to scream at the top of her lungs. Imlay wouldn't have blamed her if she had. It was an horrific sight to behold and he was suddenly confronted with the prospect of returning to Hermes aboard a ship full of bodies. "Colonel?" he asked. "What are we going to do with..."

Imlay didn't need to finish the question. Dytto had been wondering that very same thing and he knew that this was his mission and therefore it was his decision. There was only one option he believed was open to them no matter how much it seemed to torment him morally. He had tried to delay giving the order for as long as possible but now Imlay had forced him to give it.

"We dump them" he said, immediately wishing he had worded the instruction better and with more respect. There was immediate disgust from the whole team but it was Gorseinon who shrieked, "You can't do that! That's sacralige!" Dytto didn't have to be told that. Being Gemonese he was a devout believer in the Sacred Scrolls and the words regarding respecting the dead burned heavily in to his heart but at the same time his military training returned to conflict with his religious upbringing._ Emotion can get you killed. _Although he hated to admit it, even to himself, it was something Bowman had said that was to veto his heart and mind. We are in this for the species and these people are already lost. "That's enough Specialist! We don't have time to argue about this. Just get it done."

Gorseinon remained unconvinced and she turned to Imlay with pleading eyes.

"Not a word!" shot Imlay before she could even open her mouth. "The Colonel is right. Even if we take them back to Hermes we got nowhere to keep them. We end up just doing the same there. Just get to work!"

Gorseinon couldn't answer to her Deck Chief. What could she say? She was just a technician confronted by the same order from two superiors. There was some hesitation amongst the group before they began their grisly task. As Imlay reached for the nearest body, a young woman in her early twenties, Dytto stepped up to help and gave Imlay a look that silently said thank you for his support although Dytto knew from Imlay's expression that he didn't want any thanks for this.

Watching Dytto and Imlay leading by example, the rest of the team soon got to work to form a human chain along the aisle to begin clearing away the bodies. It was sombre and silent work broken only by the faint sound of Dytto uttering, "Lords of Kobol shield your eyes...and forgive us."

* * *

CYLON BASESHIP

The newly reincarnated Cylon Raider rose up from within the central chamber to take its place inside one of the biomechanical Raider sacks that dominate the central axis of a Baseship. It had long arrived at the Baseship after completing its download back on the Cylon Homeworld. The whole process was watched over by a group of Cylon Model Number Fours sometimes referred to as the 'Simons'. This particular Raider had been the cause of much debate amongst the medically inclined members of this Cylon model. The download process had been somewhat troubled and there was much discussion about abandoning the effort altogether. Nevertheless the digital soul of the little warrior prevailed and he was granted a new body after an intensive inspection by the Simons to ensure that he was fully functional.

This particular Raider had been on a 'Lone Wolf' operation through the Erebus Belt in search of surviving Colonial ships. It had been armed with nuclear weapons to destroy or at the very least incur significant damage on a ship before calling for reinforcements to finish the job. The Colonials had come to call lone Raiders conducting such operations as 'Bloodsuckers' or 'Leaches'. The Cylons had lost contact with the Raider fourteen hours ago but the download process was interfered with by the unique properties of the Erebus Belt and so they dispatched three more Raiders to help boost the signal and bring their warrior home. These Raiders were also destroyed and attempting to download.

The seven leaders of each of the significant seven Cylon models gathered in the central alcove where they could communicate with their ship and the rest of their kind to discuss their current situation. As per usual the Number One took the place in the middle of the gathering. While all were equal within the Cylon hierarchy the Number Ones, with their own logic, believed themselves to be more equal than others. He simply watched as the others interpreted the destruction of the Raiders in their own way.

"Hermes!" concluded the Number Eight. "It has to be."

"Pegasus is too far away to have something to do with this" said the Number Five before the Number Three added, "And our spies aboard Galactica's fleet haven't indicated that Adama and Roslin are planning a return trip to the colonies."

The Number One stayed silent and smirked to himself as if the others were merely stating the obvious_. Of course it was Hermes_! But he couldn't just come out and say it. His plan was meeting enough resistance as it was and to just openly admit that Hermes had inflicted losses on their forces would only add fuel to the fire of the Six and Eights, the ones strongest opposed to it. He knew how to play them and he left it so that they made the decisions. He would merely inspire them.

"How shall we proceed?" asked the Number Two. Although the question was put to everyone gathered an overwhelming element of it was directed at the Number One. They all turned to face him waiting for his answer. The Number One relished in having everyone looking at him waiting for instructions. He didn't answer at first instead waiting for their collective energy to dissipate so they would be ready to listen.

"It's almost certain that Hermes is responsible for our lost Raiders" he said slowly letting them hang on every word. "We agreed that _our_ _plan_would accept some losses." He had emphasised 'our plan' to remind everyone that they had all agreed on it. It was a clever way to subdue debate without actually starting one. "But need I remind you that we haven't truly lost a Cylon yet, only the vessels of their essence. My friends, isn't this why our programmers included this ability in to our design? So that we may be reborn and not have to fear death. Regardless of how we look we are still machines. We can still replace and rebuild anything lost. Therefore I propose we do...nothing!"

"What?" gasped the Six! "We do nothing?"

"That is correct" said the Number One.

"Shouldn't we reinforce our assets in the region?" asked the Number Three.

"Not yet!" replied the Number One. "We don't want Bowman to think there's a noose being tightened around his neck. If that happens he will pull out and run. He cares too much about his people. His little plan to resupply his ship is so ludicrusly safe that it's almost certainly doomed to failure. No! We need Hermes to stay close to the colonies. That ship is integral to our efforts here. Let them have their little victories for now. We need to keep them sweet or Hermes will go running off after Pegasus or possibly even Galactica and that would be contrary to our plans. Do you not agree?"

The other six models looked at each other before one by one they voiced their agreement. The Number One smirked slightly in delight.

* * *

COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS

The ship was now free of bodies and preparations were being made to start one of the engines. Imlay and Gorseinon were working down in the Generator Room. The six engines were all mounted externally in pods and so the vessel didn't have an 'Engine Room' in the traditional sense. The two engineers had isolated the Number Two engine and were now hooking up the Raptor APU. Imlay had to physically rip the power cable from the ship's primary APU in order to set up the Raptor's APU. A secondary link was established between the Number Two engine and the primary distribution junction so that when Number Two was started it would power the others. The work was more frustrating than difficult since it consisted of fiddling with lots of wires that were constantly trying to float away. Nevertheless the job was now done and all that was left was to start the engine and pray.

"Ok Colonel" said Imlay over the short range personal wireless to Dytto who was now in the cockpit. "We are as ready as we are ever going to be."

"Roger that Chief" replied Dytto. Dytto leaned over to the right hand side window of the cockpit with a small handheld flashlight. Aiming the flashlight at the cockpit of 'Sundried's Raptor he flashed the light three times in sequence to signal to him that they were about to attempt to start the engines. 'Sundried' acknowledged by moving the Raptor away after reeling in the safety cable. "Ok Chief I'm lighting up the board." Dytto reached down for a panel in the centre of the pilot's console and switched the 'AUX POWER' over to 'ON'. The instrumentation came alive and the lighting returned to the cockpit. "All instrumentation appears to be operational. I'm starting Number Two." The whole team seemed to hold their breath as Dytto ignited the Number Two engine.

A dim blue glow emanated from the exhaust of the Number Two engine as it powered up. Almost immediately the Raptor APU was drained of its energy and Imlay watched as the Number Two power gauge dipped slightly before rising again as the engine hiccuped slightly before powering up all the way to it's nominal output. Imlay breathed a sigh of relief as power from the engine allowed Dytto to start the other five. It was not long before the ship returned to full power as indicated by all the lights coming on in the main passenger cabin.

"Good job Chief" said Dytto. "Looks like we're flying this bird home after all."

With it's three escort Raptors looking on, the ventral thrusters on the Alexis fired pulling its buried landing struts free of the rock and the ship began to lift away from the planetoid that had been its home since the attack on the colonies. Now under it's own power it began its journey to meet up with another survivor of the Cylon attack; the Battlestar Hermes.


	29. Chapter 29

COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS  
ON APPROACH TO BATTLESTAR HERMES

The Alexis sat stationary and lined up fifteen kilometres behind the Hermes' Starboard Landing Deck. Throughout his twenty year career Caleb Dytto had never piloted anything bigger than a transport shuttle that was about one eighth the size of the Colonial Heavy Liner. He had meticuously made every effort to line up the ship as best he could but he knew that he only had a very small margin for error. A vessel the size of the Alexis was the absolute maximum that could dock inside one of the Hermes' Hangar Pods and it was this thought that kept running through his mind as he mentally worked out his entire approach.

To aid landing 'Sundried' had positioned his Raptor ahead of the Alexis to act as a pilot ship. 'Sundried' had used his onboard systems to calculate the central point along the approach path for the Alexis to follow using the Raptor as a reference. Using the Alexis' own onboard navigational DRADIS array to maintain this position offered the best chance for a safe approach given that Hermes' own approach systems were down due to battle damage.

"Alexis this is Raptor One-One-Seven" announced 'Sundried's voice over the wireless. "Am ready to proceed when you are."

"Roger that, Raptor One-One-Seven" replied Caleb Dytto wishing he could reach inside his helmet and rub away the sweat from his face. He checked over everything one more time. Following Imlay's suggestion the landing struts were still in their lowered position and had remained this way throughout the entire flight to Hermes. Imlay feared that the mechanism for retracting them may have been damaged during the landing on the planetoid and that even if they could be raised there was chance they wouldn't lower again once they were ready to land aboard the Battlestar. On an aircraft this would incur a serious increase in drag but in the vacuum of space it made no difference. The navigational DRADIS showed that the Raptor was on a heading of zero carom zero - directly ahead. Providing that 'Sundried' had got his own calculations correct then the Alexis should enter Hangar Pod with ten feet of separation between the deck and the landing strut. "Hermes this is Alexis, request permission for hands-on landing on Starboard Hangar Deck?"

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Let me have it!" said Bowman sharply to Durrand who promptly patched in the transmission into the handset attached to the Operations Desk near where Bowman was standing. Durrand nodded that he was connected and Bowman lifted up the handset to the side of his face all the while keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the DRADIS screen.

"Alexis this is Hermes-Actual. The deck is yours. We got all the time in the worlds so there's no need to rush. You're not being graded but if you damage any-_more _of my Landing Deck it's going to be coming out of your salary."

* * *

COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS

"Understood Actual" acknowledged Dytto. The joke only scratched the surface of Dytto's face as his lips curled ever so slightly before returning to his normal straight faced self. "Beginning approach. Raptor One-One-Seven increase your relative approach speed to plus fifty five."

"Roger Alexis, increasing approach speed to plus fifty five." 'Sundried' applied the throttle to his Raptor and its engines glowed brightly in response as it began to move toward Hermes. The relative approach speed was a way of measuring how much overtake an approaching craft has over a Battlestar. At plus fifty five the Raptor had fifty five kilometers per hour of overtake. This was a very slow approach indeed but given the size of the Alexis it was necessary.

As the distance between the Alexis and the Raptor began to increase Dytto selected the required speed on the computer and allowed the ship to automatically fire a two second thruster burn to bring the Alexis up to fifty five kilometres per hour. Despite the glazing of the Alexis cockpit Dytto rarely let his eyes wander outside. Instead they were locked firmly on the short range navigational DRADIS screen to make sure that the Raptor stayed directly ahead. It was up to 'Sundried' to guide them in successfully and this was some small relief for Dytto knowing that if he crashes it isn't really his fault.

There was now fourteen kilometers between the Alexis and Hermes. The readout suddenly beeped. Caleb watched as it showed that the Raptor had now dipped below the Alexis' nose by two degrees and was slowly increasing.

"Raptor One-One-Seven" said Dytto rather angrily over the wireless. "You're dropping below my nose."

"Uh...Negative Alexis. My instruments show that I am still on course. It must be you."

Dytto was about to explode on this insolent little frakker before he came to his senses and with a reddened face acknowledged that he was adjusting the approach. Dytto took the controls away from computer control and reduced their sensitivity down to its minimum so he could 'fine tune' the angle of the Alexis' approach. In his mind Dytto tried to account for the drifting. There were a number of things that could have caused the discrepancy from rogue solar winds to concentrated micro particles impacting on the hull as they passed through this region. With a nervous sweat now positively drenching his face he pulled back on the control column and the nose raised slightly with a gentle thud from the ventral thrusters. With the nose now back in position the dorsal thrusters fired to counteract the now upward motion of the ship and thus hold its position behind the Raptor.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Raptor One-One-Seven this is Alexis." Dytto's voice crackled over the speakers of the CIC as Bowman stood quietly listening to the wireless chatter between the two craft. "I am back on course."

"Roger that Alexis" replied 'Sundried'.

Bowman's eyes stung from staring at the DRADIS screen so intensely. He had become so fixated with the readout that he had almost subconsciously convinced himself that if he looked away the Alexis would crash into his Landing Deck. It was an irrational human notion that echoed his frustration at having little control over the events that were taking place.

"You're doing good Colonel just hang in there" he uttered under his breath more so for his own sake than anything else since for him to actually say the words reinforced the confidence in his team to get the job done right. In the top right corner of the screen a databox was displayed giving a list of information regarding the Alexis that was being gathered by the DRADIS. There was now just four kilometers to go.

* * *

COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS

For much of the approach 'Sundried's Raptor obscured the bulk of the Battlestar from view. Now, with less than four kilometers between them, the Battlestar appeared to have grown into an immense leviathan that was trying to swallow up the Raptor and the Alexis. Dytto's eyes peered out of the cockpit windows and even in the low light he grasped just how tight a fit this docking was going to be. Suddenly the Hermes didn't seem as big as it once appeared and Dytto found that his breathing had become more and more difficult as his anxiety increased.

"Almost there" he said for the benefit of the rest of the salvage team who were aboard the liner. Dytto's eyes darted down at the navigational DRADIS screen to confirm that he hadn't drifted off course again knowing that this would be his last chance to correct if he had. When he saw that the Raptor remained at zero carom zero he returned to the view ahead to simply satisfy his own natural instinct to use his eyes when in fact the sensor suite calibrated to track the Raptor pilot ship was more important at this moment. With a Raptor or a Viper a 'hands on' approach is always done visualy since it is easier to judge the clearance a pilot has to play with but this was nearly impossible given the size of the Alexis and the limited view from the cockpit so Dytto had to rely on sensors.

After seemingly creeping towards the Battlestar for over ten minutes the protruding lower lip of the Landing Deck suddenly rushed underneath the Heavy Liner as it entered the cavernous Hangar Pod. Dytto could now see the roof of the pod above the Heavy Liner and knew that he was now safely inside. He used the Traffic Control Centre as a marker to begin applying the forward braking thrusters to slow the Alexis down and thus allow it to land. All five members of the salvage team felt a sudden jolt forward as the thrusters fired and the Alexis slowed. Checking the information provided by the navigational DRADIS screen Dytto watched as the relative speed to Hermes began to drop off considerably from fifty five kilometers per hour down to forty then down to twenty before finally reaching zero. The risk here was to overcompensate with the braking thrusters and actually begin to reverse back out of the Hangar Pod. With adrenaline sharpening his senses to an almost razor like edge Dytto cut off the forward braking thrusters at precisely the right point.

Several members of the deckgang, acting as safety marshals, were in spacesuits standing at key points along the Landing Deck in order to watch the whole approach and provide visual assistance to Dytto should he need it but fortunately this hadn't been necessary since 'Sundried' had done such an excellent job in calculating an approach. With the forward motion of the ship now stopped it appeared to these safety marshals that the Alexis was hovering over the Landing Deck with only seven meters between the landing struts and the deck. Dytto looked down at the safety marshals while waiting for any wireless transmission that would reveal an obstruction on the deck beneath the vessel and silently swore that if there was he would airlock the worthless bastard who caused it. No such wireless chatter materialised and the safety marshals all gave visual confirmation that it was safe to touch down by holding their arms upward with both their thumbs up.

With this final safety check completed Dytto, quite nervously, fired a split second burst from the dorsal thrusters nudging the Alexis down onto the magnetized Landing Deck. A loud thud echoed through the Hangar Deck underneath which shook momentarily as the Alexis' landing struts made contact with the deck above. The shock absorbers built into the struts were forced downward as they slowed the fall of the ship onto the deck before finally they recoiled back upwards and the Alexis came to rest on the deck. The landing was complete.

"Thank the Gods!" sighed Dytto as he powered down the engines which in turn meant that the ship lost all power and was once more plunged into darkness. Sitting in the now darkened cockpit Dytto slumped back in the pilot's chair after having realized that he had subconsciously began to lean forward the closer the Alexis got to Hermes. He closed his eyes in an effort to allow his body to begin to relax, relieved that he had safely brought the Alexis aboard Hermes. To the casual observer the approach of the Alexis seemed quite calm and almost leisurely but to Dytto it had been a whirlwind of fear and anxiety with his mind trying desperately to stay on top of a million things that were happening all around him. As he lay back in the chair he began to realize that the whole experience had made him feel more alive than he had felt in a long time and he relished the experience as his body filled with endorphins bringing a slight smile to his face.

A short while later a fold out yellow umbilical tube was sealed around air lock five of the starboard hangar deck and rolled out to the Alexis. It was sealed around the air lock to the Alexis with a polymer based gel that solidifies in seconds and is used to plug microfractures in the hull of a spacecraft. Once this was completed the life support system aboard the Hermes compensated for the addition of the Alexis and increased oxygen and temperature output in order to immerse the cabin with a habitable atmosphere. The Hermes was capable of providing upto fifty per cent additional oxygen to its own requirement should it need to assist another vessel with a failure in its own life support system. It took several minutes for the Alexis to fill with a habitable atmosphere but soon enough the salvage team were able to remove their helmets and breath in a less claustrophobic environment.

Bowman was one of the first to go out to the ship that took up the better part of the Landing Deck. He passed Imlay and his team as they floated through the umbilical inside of which there was no gravity. Holding on to the ribbing of the umbilical in order to stop himself floating away Bowman congratulated them on a job well done but found that each of them weren't looking for any praise. He could see in their eyes that each of them felt dirty and disgusted with themselves. It was a look that Bowman attributed to a heavy conscience regarding what must have felt like grave robbing. With no sign of Dytto, Bowman continued forward and floated inside the Alexis calling out for the Colonel.

"Up here Commander!" answered Dytto from the cockpit. Bowman floated up the ladder and into the cockpit where he found Dytto still perched in the pilot's seat but with his helmet removed and his eyes closed shut.

"Good job Colonel!" acknowledged Bowman as he clambered into the seat beside Dytto. Dytto remained silent, something Bowman had never been used to. "Are you ok Colonel?" Dytto didn't appear to have heard the question. "Colonel!" Still no answer. "Caleb!" Dytto suddenly seemed to snap himself out of it and turned to Bowman. "Are you ok?" Bowman saw the same look in Dytto's eyes that he saw in Imlay's team only the anguish seemed deeper and mixed with guilt.

"Yes Commander. I'm fine," blurted Caleb. It wouldn't have taken a first year psychology student long to realize that Dytto was anguishing over something and Bowman suspected that it must have been regarding the sight of the dead aboard their newly commandeered ship. Bowman knew there was little point in trying to get through to Dytto and offer his compassion. Dytto would interpret the gesture as a sign of weakness and would retaliate against it. Bowman was in no mood for a fight and so he instructed Dytto to prepare a full rundown of the Alexis and to get hold of the ships flight recorder known universally as a 'black box'.

"Yes Commander," acknowledged Dytto quite vaguely as Bowman lifted himself back out of the seat. Bowman was floating through the hatch at the rear of the cockpit when Dytto suddenly called out, "We will need a priest!"

"Excuse me?" answered Bowman with a quizzed expression.

"We need a priest. For the memorial service."

Bowman felt ashamed as Dytto looked back over his shoulder to wait for the Commander's response to his recommendation. In all the euphoria of discovering the Alexis, a potential goldmine of parts and fuel for the Hermes and its air wing, Bowman had all but forgotten that over a hundred people had died on the vessel. He tried to find comfort in the fact that he was in a practical state but it only reinforced his shame since it made him feel as though he was deliberately trying to forget the people that died aboard this ship. As he looked back at his former XO he began to wonder if that was true or not?

"I think there's one in the civilian section" answered Bowman humbly.

"Is that what we're calling the slum these days?" sniped Dytto. The remark was typical Caleb Dytto and Bowman finally recognized the man sitting before him but suddenly Dytto's eyes looked away from him. "I'm sorry" said Dytto. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes you did" said Bowman in a tone that was honest but not confrontational. "You meant it because I deserved to hear it. I have been almost ignorant of those people. I guess I just wanted to throw them down there and forget about them. That is something I am going to have to address very soon. The Alexis is going to be part of it." Dytto wondered what Bowman meant by that but didn't speak up for him to clarify. "Colonel, do you want to organize the memorial?"

"Yes sir" replied Dytto. It was rare for Dytto to ever use the word 'sir' when addressing Bowman. "I suppose it could be my pennants."

Bowman could never know what Caleb meant by that remark. As he finally left the cockpit, Dytto found his mind replaying the images of the people whose bodies he had thrown out of the open air lock. Men. Women. Children. All their faces had been etched into Bowman's soul. He wondered if there would ever be a day again when he could close his eyes and not see their faces.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

It was almost an hour later that Specialist Gorseinon walked into CIC pushing the heavy flight recorder from the Alexis along on a trolley. It was a small box about seventy centimeters long and forty centimeters high and wide. The size of the box disguised the fact that the actual recorder inside it only made up a third of the whole thing. The rest of the box consisted of layered armour to make sure that the device was protected from all but the heaviest of blasts or collisions. This was to make sure that the flight recorder could be recovered relatively intact for investigation of a downed vessel. Contrary to popular belief it was not black but was a dark grey colour.

Despite serving on Hermes for well over a year the young 'knuckledragger' had never actually walked into the CIC before having spent nearly the whole time she had been aboard the Battlestar down on the Hangar Deck working on a Viper or Raptor. She checked in with the Marine guard standing by the entrance before she continued on her way in. She recognized Major Adonia who was standing by the Operations Desk from his days as the CAG. She thought he would be a good person to report to but as she started to walk up to him she was intercepted by Captain Burmeister, "Is that the flight recorder from the Alexis?"

"Oh uh, yes Captain" replied Gorseinon.

"Can you bring it over here please?" Burmeister indicated to an empty station just over to the left of the Operations Desk. Gorseinon followed Burmeister pushing the trolley with the flight recorder and placed it beside a secondary computer terminal that had been left deactivated to allow it to be used to analyze the data on the recorder. "Thank you specialist" said Burmeister. Gorseinon acknowledged the thanks that she felt was given more as a way of dismissing the young woman rather than genuine gratitude. This brief encounter with the Hermes' Tactical Officer left Gorseinon with a cold impression of the dark haired officer whom she thought to be quite stuck up. Little did Gorseinon know that Burmeister was now trying to emotionally shut herself from everyone around her feeling that it was safer that way.

Bowman had asked Burmeister to look over the data privately and report her findings directly to him although she didn't know why? She had chosen to use this particular console because it was one of the few stations on the Battlestar that had the necessary connections to linkup to the specialized device and was out of the way of the rest of the CIC so that no one else could accidentally glance at the screen. She plugged in the fiber optic cable from the terminal which provided power to the recorder as well as allow her access to the data inside and she got to work.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK  
VIPER LAUNCH TUBE No.7

The memorial service was a short and somber affair. A priest was found inside the 'slum' and he agreed to do the service. Normally the bodies of the dead would have been placed inside the launch tube wrapped up in ceremonial garments of their respective colonies while those gathered would pay their respects. Since no bodies from the Alexis were returned to the Hermes a portrait of the vessel taken from inside the cabin would act as substitute.

The priest spoke about the journey the soul takes from the living plain to the life thereafter to be with their loved ones once more. During his own lifetime Caleb Dytto had been to many such funerals. He always found peace with the story of the eternal soul but as he stood there beside Bowman, Imlay and the rest of the salvage team who felt it was their duty to be present he found the words empty and almost meaningless. For the first time in his life he was feeling anger aimed at the Gods for allowing this to happen. During the whole service he remained silent and unmoving but inside he was fighting a three sided war between his heart, his mind and his beliefs.

The time came for the portrait, the honorary dead, to be released into the universe. The procession retreated to the launch tube control room adjacent to the tube to watch through the thick glass. Before the air lock was opened Bowman lifted up the intercom handset and called the whole ship to respectful silence.

It took several seconds for the tube to safely depressurize and the portrait was blown out into space by the small amount of rapidly escaping air that had remained inside the tube as the doors opened. As the portrait twisted and turned down the tube and out into long night of space the images of every single body he had ordered to suffer the indignity of simply being thrown out of the air lock flashed in Dytto's mind. The gathered mourners, themselves honorary friends for those aboard, stood to attention and saluted as the launch tube doors began to close once more thus ending the ceremony.

Dytto was the last to leave.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Captain Chloe Burmeister knew there was no point in just sitting comfortably and watching hours of footage recorded by the internal cameras of the last day of the Alexis. She accessed the ships data files and found the exact time the landing struts had last been lowered in order to identify when the ship may have landed on the planetoid. Once she had learned the exact moment she accessed the cockpit video of the pilots as they made the touch down. She placed a set of headphones over her head and positioned the speakers against her ears so she could listen to what was being said without anyone else eavesdropping. She knew her orders and they were quite clear unlike Bowman's reasoning behind them. For twenty five minutes she watched the digital recording of the landing and the moments thereafter. There was some discussion between the two men as to how long they should try to hide there from the Cylons before coming out of the Erebus Belt to try and find a Colonial Fleet ship. The conversation then descended into the two of them wondering about their families on the respective colonies.

Believing that there was little value to watching anymore she decided to move on to how the air lock opened. She used the environmental sensor records to identify the time the cabin lost pressure as a point of reference. It was seven hours after touching down on the planetoid and the captain was returning to his seat in the cabin when suddenly an alarm sounded and the air was sucked out of the room. The footage was half way through the two men choking when she realized that this footage could do little to help her investigation so she accessed the files pertaining to the footage recorded by the camera placed in front of the air lock between the main passenger cabin and the ladder to the raised cockpit. She began the video five minutes before the air lock opened. There were two stewardesses talking right in front of the camera.

"They're not buying it anymore Clara" pleaded the younger of the two with a heavily subdued voice. "We have to tell them something or it's going to get frakking ugly!"

"I know" whispered Clara. "But you heard what the Captain said. We just smile and keep everyone as calm as we can. If we tell them what we know about the colonies being nuked then we will have a panic on our hands."

"There already is-" The younger of the two stewardesses was stopped mid sentence as a third woman appeared from the passenger cabin. She was quite tall with dark blond hair and wore a long red jacket over her seemingly athletic body. Chloe could only just see the corners of her face since her back was angled towards the camera.

"Excuse me" she said to the stewardesses quite politely.

"Yes Miss Faust?" asked Clara trying desperately to produce a pleasant smile but her face betrayed her own worry.

"I'm sorry to bother you but I was wondering if I might have a chance to speak to the Captain?" asked Miss Faust very politely.

"I'm afraid that's impossible, he is very busy" explained Clara.

"With what?" asked Miss Faust who appeared calmer than either stewardess. "We aren't going anywhere at the moment so I would think he would have a moment to speak to me."

"As I said he is quite busy. Now if you'd like to return to your seat I'm sure he will be down shortly to answer any of your questions." An annoyed Clara tried to lead Miss Faust back to the cabin. It would be the last thing she would ever do. Miss Faust's elbow suddenly swung at the stewardess breaking her nose instantly and she fell to the floor unconscious. The terrified younger stewardess screamed as Miss Faust threw herself onto her and placed her hands around her neck squeezing tightly with her thumbs and breaking the poor girl's windpipe. Miss Faust knew she had done enough damage and left the girl to choke to death on the floor as she proceeded towards the air lock control panel. Confused and terrified voices could be heard coming from the cabin.

"What is she doing?"

"What's going on?"

"Natalie! Is everything ok up there?"

Miss Faust ignored them all as she began to access the control panel for the air lock. Chloe was amazed at how quickly Faust managed to override the safety protocols guarding the air lock against such actions. A rather portly man in a business suit appeared from the cabin and looked on in horror as she began to unlock the large circular hatch.

"Natalie!" he cried. "What are you doing?"

Natalie Faust turned around to face the man and simply smiled as the air lock blew open. The rapid decompression threw Natalie and the bodies of the dead stewardesses out into space. The man who appeared in the doorway was also blown out into space along with several others from the cabin. One man got caught in the hatchway and Chloe watched as he slowly suffocated as the last of the air escaped. His features froze up and his skin turned distinctly blue. All sound and movement suddenly stopped and it was as if the picture itself was frozen in time.

Chloe stopped the video and sat back in her chair contemplating on what she had just seen on the tape. It made little sense to her. The apparent suicide of Natalie Faust didn't appear to be stereotypical of the act of taking one's own life. She almost relished in the fact that she was dying and that her death would kill over a hundred others. Not even the most religious fanatics are so callous about their own death. Faust was calm, composed and perfectly aware of what she was doing.

Chloe reversed the recording back to the moment where Faust was facing the portly businessman for it was the only point in the recording where she could see Faust's face. She paused the image and zoomed in. The image pixilated and it took a few seconds for the computer to enhance the image.

"What were you thinking?" she asked aloud as the face became clearer and clearer. "What were y-"

Burmeister fell silent as the image cleared. She was certain she had seen the woman's face before but she was not sure where. Then it hit her! The realization came like a bolt of electricity through her body. She quickly accessed the ship's digital library to confirm her own suspicions and called up an image taken from the mission to the Hellenic Traveler over two weeks ago. It was a picture of the face of the woman that had been stuffed into a cargo container by the crew before they were killed by the Cylons. She minimized both images and put them together.

"My Gods!" she gasped as she realized that except for the darker shade of hair colour the two people were identical.


	30. Chapter 30

BATTLESTAR HERMES PILOTS' BRIEFING ROOM  
31 DAYS SINCE THE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

Lieutenant Melissa 'Aurora' Saunders was amazed at how well she had adapted to her new life as a trainee Raptor Electronic Countermeasures Officer. It had been a week since she left the 'slum' but it had been an intensive week to say the least. When she wasn't eating or sleeping she was living in the rear compartment of an idle Raptor down on the Hangar Deck running training simulations. When a Raptor wasn't available for her to use she would spend her time in the simulator room. The stations in the simulator room were never intended for full training regimes but were instead intended for crews to 'brush up' on the training they would have received prior to joining the fleet. To that end the simulated stations, while accurate representations of the real thing, were not housed in full sized simulators. Because of this Major Adonia, before becoming the XO, had ordered that when possible all training would be simulated inside the Raptors so that the new 'Rooks' would get a real feel for the job. Melissa, as well as a few of the other new recruits from the 'slum', had gone out on actual Raptor missions to watch how the professionals did it and for a bit of on the job training but this had stopped when the resupply missions to Scorpia began. There simply wasn't the space for any 'dead weight'. As she sat there waiting for the daily briefing to begin she was itching to put some of what she had learned into practice. Even though it had only been a week she had developed a rather severe case of 'Rook confidence'. Some of the regular pilots and ECMOs had bitterly tried to warn her that she had a long way to go yet and resented her enthusiasm but she would not be put down so easily by anyone.

Like many of the pilots within the air wing she had discovered that she too had labelled a seat in the briefing room that was 'hers' and no one else's. It was in the back row and to the left of the CAG's podium. It was the seat she had taken the first time she attended one of these briefings. Only once over the past week had she sat somewhere else at the daily briefing. That was the day she found Captain Chloe Burmeister with her arm gushing with blood from her self inflicted wounds. This incident had reinforced her developing case of superstition regarding her choice of seat.

The current CAG, 'Stinger', entered the room and she stood smartly to attention as if desperately trying to make a good impression but the effort was missed by nearly everyone. As her body firmed up she noticed that most of those assembled had stood rather limply, almost half heartedly, and she sensed that the air in the room had become a cocktail of fatigue, frustration and general hostility.

"Good morning" said 'Stinger' as he took his place at the podium in the centre of the room. "Please be seated."

Even 'Stinger' was showing the strain. Melissa saw on the daily flight roster that he prepared every day that he had put himself on the majority of missions to Scorpia. It was no secret that 'Stinger' was the finest Raptor pilot aboard Hermes, the running joke being that he could make the little ship deal cards if asked to. This accolade weighed heavily on 'Stinger's shoulders however and given the risk involved in the runs to Scorpia he felt that as CAG it was his duty to bare the Lion's share to improve the overall chances of success. Adonia had politely tried to warn him about taking on too much but he knew from his own experience as CAG that 'Stinger' would smile and say 'I will' just before climbing back into a Raptor for the next mission. It takes a certain type of person to be a CAG. They have to be sure of themselves almost to the point of being arrogant but another trait that is required and often overlooked is knowing their own limits.

"Ok! Briefing for today" began 'Stinger' after everyone had returned to their seats. "No outstanding changes to orders. We are now on the eighteenth trip to the distribution centre on Scorpia. Group seventeen should be on their way back as we speak. Group eighteen skids up at 0710. Intelligence! The Marines on the ground have reported that a Cylon Raider passes overhead every six hours exactly! Cylons, as do all machines, like regularity and they're not expecting anyone to be down there so it plays right into our hands. Now this doesn't affect us as yet but once we confirm that the Cylons are maintaining this patrol pattern we will take full advantage of the break and increase our number of runs in between."

There were subdued sighs and moans from the assembled pilots and ECMOs.

"Alright, alright" whined 'Stinger' holding his hands up to silence the room.

"Sir?" called out 'Magma' sitting near the front.

"What is it 'Magma?'" asked 'Stinger' rolling his eyes. One thing he had learned very quickly as CAG is that when 'Magma' opened her mouth it was seldom going to be a pleasant experience.

"Do we have any idea how many of these trips we are going to have to take?" asked 'Magma'. The question had caught the attention of everyone since it was something that they had all wondered at some point and most of them waited with baited breath. Melissa had noticed that 'Stinger' seemed somewhat reluctant to answer. She was not the only one who had picked up on it either.

"At present" said 'Stinger' finally as he braced himself for the response he was expecting. "A conservative estimate is somewhere around the two hundred to two hundred and twenty mark."

"Two hundred and twenty individual Raptor sorties?" asked 'Magma'.

"Two hundred and twenty groups" corrected 'Stinger'. There was an eruption of voices in the room each one echoing the general feeling of worry. The complaining had been getting on 'Stinger's nerves. They didn't seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation and seemed more interested in bitching and moaning. Finally he could take no more and he roared "Alright shut the frak up!" The whole room fell silent once more as the assembled crews, used to 'Stinger's more amicable personality, felt like they were facing a Marine drill sergeant. "I don't think you all truly grasp the seriousness of the situation. We are permanently behind enemy lines and we are on our own out here. Now I know that you're all tired from combat, recce and mule work, Gods know I am, but there are five thousand people aboard this ship counting on us to bring back the goods we all need to survive because there's no one else. Now then! Can I continue?"

Nobody answered. 'Stinger' composed himself as he returned to the podium to carry on with his briefing. Some of them suspected that he was holding something back and they were correct. 'Stinger' knew that in reality there wasn't enough fuel left aboard the ship, even with additional fuel siphoned from the Alexis, to achieve half of the two hundred and twenty groups needed to bring back the supplies but felt there was no sense sharing that particular piece of information just yet. They needed something to aim for. They needed hope that what they were attempting could be done.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE

Commander Artimus Bowman had murdered sleep since the twelve colonies were destroyed. All pretence of a routine had been lost. He slept when he could. He ate when he could but the rest of the time he was working. The fact that it was so early in the morning when the memorial ceremony for the Alexis had been carried out mattered little at the moment as he took a few moments to gather his thoughts in his office before returning to CIC.

He slumped back in his chair and opened the top buttons of his duty jacket. The loosening up of his clothes offered surprising relief as the uniform he wore day in and day out had become the shackles that bound him to this new existence. His eyes fell shut. It was not to sleep but to simply limit the input to his brain and allow him to look in on himself.

His eyes opened sharply as his moment of tranquillity was destroyed by a frantic knocking on the hatch. Slightly startled, he sat upright and began to button back up when the knocking repeated itself. With his 'game face' back on he called out loud enough to be heard on the other side, "Come in!"

The hatch swung open and like a hurricane Burmeister burst inside. In her hand was a small brown folder and she placed it under her limp left arm which had just enough strength to hold it in place as she closed the hatch with her stronger right arm before darting up to Bowman's desk.

"I'm sorry for the interruption sir" she said almost breathlessly, "But I thought you'd want to see this."

"Ok" said Bowman. "What is it?"

"I've gone over the security camera footage from the Alexis." Burmeister placed the folder down onto the desk in front of Bowman and opened it up. "The air lock was opened deliberately by this woman, Natalie Faust." She handed him a photograph taken from the recording. Bowman took the photograph of the woman and looked at it as Burmeister continued, "When I first saw her I thought I had seen her somewhere before and then I remembered the mission to the Hellenic Traveller over two weeks ago. This is a photo of the body that we brought back. Sir, don't they look just a little similar?"

"I admit that the resemblance is striking" added Bowman who had already reached a conclusion that Burmeister would be blissfully unaware of. "But what of it?"

"It got me thinking sir" she explained. "About the Hellenic Traveller. We thought that the ship must have been hit by Cylon Raiders or a Baseship but when we were examining the hull I noticed briefly that there were indications of internal explosions but I didn't pay too much attention to it. I didn't think it was important at the time. But now! Sir I think that this woman was in someway responsible for sabotaging the Hellenic Traveller just like this Natalie Faust killed all the people aboard the Alexis."

"Well that's its still hardly conclusive Captain" said Bowman. "Enemy fire may have ignited fuel cells or explosive cargo?"

"That maybe true sir" protested Burmeister who was like a dog with a bone. "But why then would two Cylon Raiders show up during our salvage mission? If the Hellenic Traveller was already dead then there would be no point in coming to launch a few more nukes at it."

"Maybe they weren't there for the ship?" mused Bowman much to Burmeister's increasing frustration. "Maybe your Raptor tripped some kind of sensor trap they had set up or they were just checking it out in case survivors were trying to salvage something?"

Chloe Burmeister was about to respond when she suddenly realized something as she looked upon her Commander's face.

"Sir?" she asked stubbornly refusing to take the hint. "Are you fighting me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about" lied Bowman. Secretly he was quite pleased with Burmeister's work. It was as if her moment of weakness brought about by her pregnancy had never happened and she was back to her old self. In her eyes he could see that youthful determination that she possessed prior to the war. There was still hurt mixed in them but all the pressure that had been building up over the past month had subsided. While he wouldn't recommend her cutting herself the next time it had built up again he had to admit that the experience had snapped her out of it and he was certainly glad to have her back.

"Permission to speak freely sir?" she asked as she brought herself to full height. Bowman nodded and she continued, "In all the time I have served under you I have never been afraid to come to you about any of my theories because you have always made the time to listen. You haven't always agreed and that is your right as CO but as I stand here you appear to be trying to throw me off completely without listening to exactly what I have to say. If this is regarding my…my injuries then I can understand that and I wish to impress upon you that as I stand here before you I am of sound mind and judgement."

"I know that Captain" said Bowman apologetically. "Alright. Just skip to it. What is your conclusion?"

Burmeister swallowed as she looked down at her CO. She had to find the strength inside herself to say it for even she felt it was an incredible flight of fancy.

"Given the remarkable resemblance between the two women's facial features. Also, given that there is a distinct possibility that both women were involved in some kind of suicidal sabotage missions of two Colonial vessels I believe that they could be twin sisters who are Cylon agents." Burmeister's tone betrayed her own doubts over that specific theory and hinted that she had more to say.

"Go on!" said Bowman knowing full well that she was on the right track.

"Or they _are_ Cylons! They could be very good imitations of Humans. It's possible that the two Raiders were on some sort of mission to recover the body perhaps or confirm that the ship had been destroyed?"

To her surprise Bowman didn't flinch and she suspected that the reason he had been fighting her was to try and deliberately throw her off the trail. Bowman didn't say anything for a few seconds as he pondered how to continue. He knew there was no sense keeping Chloe in the dark any longer. So far only Major Adonia, D'anna Biers and himself knew that Cylons now looked like Humans. He stood up and walked over to the intercom handset that hung from the wall. He picked it up and pushed the button to speak with the CIC. "Major, please come to my office. Bring Miss Biers with you." Bowman hung up the handset and turned to Burmeister. "During Miss Biers' debriefing she mentioned that there were Humans who were working with the Cylons and that they all looked remarkably similar. Identical in some instances."

"Clones sir?" asked Burmeister.

"That's one of the theories" said Bowman. "At this point we just don't know."

* * *

A FEW MINUTES LATER

D'anna Biers sat in a chair opposite Bowman's desk looking down at the picture of Natalie Faust. She lifted it up and looked closer at the dark blond woman. Of course D'anna knew exactly who she was but her Cylon programming allowed her to control herself better than any undercover Human agent ever could.

"I'm not sure" she said to the three officers who were gathered around her waiting in anticipation for her to confirm their suspicions. As per her instructions D'anna had revealed the evolution of Cylons from mechanical to organic beings to the crew of the Hermes but she had also been instructed to be as vague as possible in an effort to confuse them and try to turn them against each other. The aim was to add a little paranoia to the crew of one of the last surviving Battlestars. Little could they know that they already had two Cylon agents onboard and that they were in trusted positions.

"How about in this one?" asked Burmeister handing her the second picture which contained the image of the bright blond woman in the Hermes' morgue. As she looked at the two versions of the Number Six model of Cylon she knew there was little point in trying to downplay it anymore. Even if she said that she had never seen anyone looking like the Sixes it wouldn't help at this point. Bowman and his crew would assume it was simply a model she had never seen before. "Now I recognise her. I've never seen one with that colour hair before" she explained indicating to Natalie Faust. "I guess it threw me a little but this one is definitely one of the skinjobs."

Burmeister was a bit suspicious of the fact that D'anna didn't recognise the picture of Natalie since she had identified her as the same woman from the Hellenic Traveller after only glancing at her body for a few moments and that was over two and a half weeks ago. Nevertheless she put it down to a mix of her own good memory and some people simply not being good with faces.

"Thank you Miss Biers" said Bowman. "You may return to your quarters. Remember that this information you have provided us has been deemed classified."

"Of course" she said before turning to leave. The three officers stayed silent until D'anna Biers had left the room and closed the hatch behind her. Major Adonia turned to face Bowman and Burmeister. He had been particularly troubled by the revelation that the Cylons looked like Humans now and it came as some relief that they had now identified one of them. Bowman picked up the two photographs and held them side by side to analyse them.

"When this meeting is over" he said to Adonia. "Have copies of these pictures circulated amongst the ship and in particular amongst the civilians."

"What do you want to tell them?" asked Adonia.

Bowman thought for a moment as he looked for inspiration and found it in lodged in his memory regarding a movie he had once seen. "The cover story will be that we have found evidence that this woman and her twin sister are drug smugglers and that they maybe aboard. The twins aspect will explain why one of them has a bullet in her head. There's no need to go into too much detail."

"Yes sir!" said Adonia as he took the two photographs.

Bowman sat back down in his chair as he asked "Did Deveroux ever perform an autopsy on the blond woman's body?"

"I don't think so sir" replied Burmeister. "He said specifically that cause of death was a bullet to the head. What was the point in wasting time? The body is still in the morgue though. Deveroux said something about giving it a proper burial."

"Tell the Doctor he is to perform a thorough autopsy of the body as soon as possible. I want to know if there's something even slightly out of the ordinary" ordered Bowman to which Burmeister nodded in acknowledgement. "Good, now there's something else we need to discuss. Please, both of you take a seat." The two of them pulled out a chair each and sat in front of their Commanding Officer. "Have the two of you been keeping upto date with the current fuel situation as well as our progress with the runs to Scorpia?"

"Yes sir!" replied Adonia confidently.

"I'm afraid not sir" explained Burmeister regretfully. "I've been preoccupied with getting back up to speed with the ship's tactical situation after my temporary absence but that's no excuse-"

"It's ok Captain" interjected Bowman. "Well purely for your benefit our fuel stocks are looking grim. Where as we normally carry enough fuel for anywhere upto three months of regular operations, given the level of combat we saw in the weeks following the attack on the colonies and now with the level of runs we are doing going back and fore to Scorpia we are looking at running out of fuel in less than a week and a half providing that we don't have to move the ship again."

"What percentage of supplies does that allow us to bring onboard?" asked an open mouthed Burmeister.

"Not enough" was Bowman's answer.

"The problem is the Raptors weren't designed for this kind of work" added Adonia. "They just can't bring up enough in one go."

"No" said Bowman. "But the Alexis can."

"Sir?" asked Burmeister not sure that she had heard him correctly.

"The Alexis is capable of an independent FTL jump and is fully atmospheric. It has a spacious cargo hold and we can increase that if we clear out the passenger cabin of the seats. We could virtually empty out the distribution centre in one trip." Bowman saw both his officers look at one another with doubtful eyes. "We need to adapt our plan or we are sunk. There is just no way around it. Our fuel supplies will not last if we keep up this level of operations and that also means our air wing is grounded. I don't need to tell you two that without our Raptors and Vipers we are just one big target to be destroyed."

"I understand that sir" said Burmeister. "But jumping three Raptors into an atmosphere is one thing. They were designed to have a low electromagnetic signature to make it that much harder to detect. But if we jump something the size of the Alexis into an atmosphere its EM signature is going to scream for the Cylons attention."

"I know" said Bowman. "That's why we are going as well in order to distract the Baseships in orbit while Alexis sneaks into the atmosphere. Adrastos and his men as well as some additional bodies we are going to put on the ground will have to transport the supplies from the distribution centre to a landing zone big enough to support the Alexis. As I recall there is a sports stadium nearby that should be suitable."

"How is Adrastos going to get a couple of hundred tons of supplies to the LZ?" asked Adonia.

"Trucks!" added Burmeister in a moment of inspiration. "The truckyard is filled with vehicles and trailers. Many of them are already in position to be loaded up. All we would have to do is finish loading them up and drive them out of there."

"But will they work after all this time?" asked Adonia wanting to point out the obvious.

"Well that's up to Imlay" explained Bowman. "We have to put some engineers on the ground to make sure. Provided they can be moved we can drive them out and rendezvous with Alexis. They can unload the trucks at the LZ and blast off." There was a distinct look of uncertainty in Bowman's two officers. He had expected as such when he first pondered the possibility after Imlay had proposed the idea of recovering the Alexis as opposed to stripping it for parts and leaving the carcass on the planetoid.

"Sir!" piped up Burmeister. "With all due respect. We believe that there are as many as three Baseships orbiting Scorpia at any one time. Coupled with enemy forces stationed on the ground…There's no way Hermes can hold off that kind of force for long enough to get the trucks to the Alexis and load them up. Even when we were at full strength that would be difficult at best and impossible given our current status."

"That's where you two come in" said Bowman signalling to the two of them. "We need a plan to distract the Cylons. Now we are fortunate enough to have one of the best Tactical Officers to have come out of the Academy in a long time and a former CAG who knows how to make the most out of an air wing." In peacetime this kind of praise would have turned Burmeister's cheeks bright red but in the here and now it merely served to encourage her to at least give it a go. The same went for Adonia. "Unless both of you can present an alternative plan and believe me I am more than willing to listen, I suggest we get started right away."

"Should we suspend the Raptor missions in the meantime, sir? In order to preserve fuel I mean?" asked Adonia.

Bowman thought for a moment before answering "Send the next group out with instructions for Adrastos to reconnoitre the route the trucks will be taking to the stadium. They can also take someone with them to assess those vehicles."

"Yes sir!" acknowledged Adonia.

"Alright then" said Bowman rising from his seat followed by his two officers. "We will meet in the Wardroom in one hour to plan for the operation. In the meantime get those pictures out there. If there are any…_skinjobs_ on my ship I want to know about it."

"Sir I recommend that Miss Biers accompany the next Raptor group to join our Marines" suggested Burmeister.

"She's a civilian!" protested Adonia but Bowman could see the wisdom in her suggestion.

"She's also been a resistance fighter and knows what these skinjobs look like" added Bowman. "Make it happen Captain!"

"Yes sir!" replied Burmeister. The two officers saluted their Commander and he in turn acknowledged the gesture before they turned and made their way towards the hatch. As Adonia stepped through Bowman called out "Captain Burmeister!" Chloe stopped and turned back towards him. "It's good to have you back Captain." Chloe was unsure how to respond and so she simply just nodded in appreciation.


	31. Chapter 31

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

The last Raptor of group nineteen lifted up off the ground kicking up dust and debris as it climbed before turning in pursuit of the two Raptors that had already left. It was in a matter of minutes that the three spacecraft were over the horizon and jumping back to the Erebus Belt where the Battlestar Hermes lay in hiding. Unlike the previous eighteen groups however this group had left two people behind; a civilian mechanic named Jay Stenlake and D'anna Biers. Both had been issued with their own NBC protection suits indicating that they were going to be there a while.

Lt Adrastos walked into their makeshift command centre with the envelope he had been handed by one of the Raptor crew before it had taken off. He placed his rifle down on a table and pulled out a chair to sit on in order to read what had been addressed to him. The envelope was small and brown in colour with an unbroken seal covering the flap at the rear. The seal bore the words Battlestar Hermes BSG-58 and was intended to show that the letter had come direct from Bowman, since he was the only one with access to such seals, and hadn't been interfered with by the time it reached Adrastos. The Marine Lieutenant's name had been written by hand on the front just below a red stamp that said 'COMPARTMENTALIZED'. He broke the seal and opened the envelope. As he took out a letter concealed inside a small photograph fell out of the envelope and landed on the floor. The photograph had two images on it both of what appeared to be the same women but with different variations of hair colour. Holding the small letter up to his mask he begin reading it. When he was done his arm slowly lowered in disbelief.

"He can't be serious!"

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES WARDROOM

The wardroom aboard the Hermes, perhaps more than any other place aboard the Battlestar, emphasized the splendor and magnificence these vessels enjoyed in the Colonial Fleet. The room was dominated by a large and finely polished oak table that was used for things as simple as informal discussions between officers to mission briefings to official state dinners, not that anyone aboard Hermes was expecting any such fine dining anytime soon.

Today however the room looked anything but dignified. The oak table was awash with photographs of Cylon vessels taken from gun cameras as well as every piece of information they had learned from fighting them be it DRADIS scans, radiometer readouts, pilot after action reports or simply little tidbits that had been scribbled down on paper. All of it was laid out on the table infront of Captain Chloe Burmeister as she looked down over it. She probably knew it all by now but it always helped her to have a physical representation of the information stored in her subconscious if only for reference. She had been tackling her task of planning some kind of diversion for the Cylon Baseships in orbit of Scorpia for well over two hours straight and she had come to realize that all the information had now molded together into one big and confusing blur. As a result her mind was beginning to wander and she knew that her efforts were becoming counterproductive.

She stood back from the table and rubbed her strained eyes vigorously in an effort to clear her thoughts. This simple action alone had managed to clear some of the blur and she returned to the table with a point to start again. With this new clarity of thought she took a picture of a Baseship and stared directly at the odd shaped vessel. She then posed herself a question. _What do I know about you?_

She took hold of a pen and turned the picture over so that the clear white opposite side was facing upwards. She then began to write on the back;

- Big!  
- Heavily armored on top and bottom half  
- Weak armour around central axis where the Raptor bays are located

She then considered the strengths and weaknesses of the vessel in combat;

-Heavy reliance on Raiders for protection  
-Heavy missile armament  
-No apparent close in defensive systems

Burmeister stopped for a moment after writing down this fact. It seemed an obvious flaw in the design of the ship after all Hermes bristled with close in weapons systems, CIWS in military jargon, and they had proven their worth many times. She turned the picture back over and looked at the design once again.

"Why?" she uttered to herself. "If you are going to build a warship to fight the Colonial Fleet why don't you make them capable of standing toe-to-toe with a Battlestar?" Images of great battles between fleets of Battlestars and Baseships began to play out in her mind and it was then that she found herself in the same frame of mind that their designers must have had. "They never intended to fight on equal terms. They designed these ships to fit into their plans to use a computer virus to disable colonial defenses. They knew that the virus would have only bought them time before the Colonial Fleet would figure out what was going on and do something about it so they designed their ships to be fast chargers. Using Raiders and heavy missiles to do the work leaving the Baseship to just sit back and watch. But how does that help us now?"

She could feel that she was onto something with this but that she was just missing the mark slightly. She turned the photograph back over and looked back over her notes that she had already made.

"Weak armour around central axis where the Raptor bays are located." This one line was stood out in her mind. She turned the photograph back over and drew a ring around the Raider bays located along the circumference of the central axis. "If we are going to take out a Baseship quickly then that would be where to do it. A heavy nuke launched at close range by a Raptor might just do the job."

This had two problems. Firstly, how to get a Raptor that close without being detected and secondly where to find the nukes? The Raptor groups that had been making the supply runs to Scorpia had had detected signs of at least three Baseships in orbit and reinforcements would only be a call away. Hermes had one ship-to-ship nuke left after the battle above Picon at the start of the war. It was in the five megaton range and could cause immense structural damage to a Baseship if fired into the right place. It was possible to rig the missile upto a Raptor but this didn't solve the detection issue.

It was at this point that Major Adonia returned to the wardroom after briefing 'Stinger' on the new plan. Although Burmeister was happy for the help she wished that she could be left alone for another hour or so to keep working on this but Bowman had assigned the two of them to work on this plan and so she had no choice.

"How did 'Stinger' take it?" she asked in a not-so-funny kind of way.

"Better than I thought" replied Adonia. "He has his doubts but accepts the fact that we need do something. I just wish I had more to tell him. How is it going here?"

Burmeister opened her arms up in frustration and shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't really gone that far along. We need to be smart on this one. Brute force just isn't on our side."

"What's this all about?" asked Adonia referring to the ring drawn on the picture of the Baseship.

"Just a thought" said Burmeister. "We can probably take out one Baseship with a nuke fired right into the central axis. It would cause significant structural damage and at the same time take out most of their Raiders but that means we still have two other Baseships to worry about plus any reinforcements. If only there was a way to knock out the three of them in one go or at least do enough damage to blind and confuse them? We would need a few more nukes to do something like that. Something the Cylons aren't short of."

There was a short pause as Adonia listened to Burmeister's thoughts on the operation. Subconsciously his eyes began to wander around the pictures on the table until they rested on a picture of a Raider.

"Bloodsuckers!" gasped Adonia in a moment of realization. He had caught the attention of Burmeister by the suddenness of his words. "Bloodsuckers!" he repeated. "The Raiders we engaged when we were relocating the Hermes. They were bloodsuckers. Nuke armed Raiders. There's a possibility that some of their weapons may have survived our Vipers."

"But could they be rigged to fire off a Viper or Raptor?" asked Burmeister concerned that the Cylon weapons wouldn't be compatible.

"Well I'm sure the Chief could rig something up. It's worth a shot. Just one more nuke would be a big help and we are going to need all the help we can get" said Adonia.

Burmeister didn't seem too convinced by the idea but nevertheless she allowed herself a moment to accept the idea and they began devising a plan on the premise that they would have access to additional nuclear weapons courtesy of the Cylons.

* * *

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

Gunnery Sergeant Callisto held a cigarette lighter he had found in one of the desk drawers of the office beneath the written orders from Bowman and made sure that every piece of the letter was burned beyond recognition. Both he and Adrastos had spent the last ten minutes memorizing every detail of the orders until they could recite the basics without the need for a written reference. When the last piece of the paper had curled up and turned to ash Callisto turned to the photograph.

"So" he said looking at the women in the picture. "These are our first Cylons. The toasters do good work, it has to be said."

"I wouldn't let any part of your anatomy other than your brain dictate to you what to do if you see one of those" said Adrastos. "They're cold blooded killers. Ruthless, efficient and apparently have very little regard for their own lives."

"Well why would they?" asked Callisto rhetorically. "If you kill one then all they have to do is go and make another one. That's always been the problem with toasters. Quick and easy production on mass. It takes a full eighteen years to build a fully capable Marine." Callisto put the photograph back down on the table as he watched his superior officer checking over his disassembled assault rifle making sure that it was clean and in good working order. "I still think you should let me go on this one Lieutenant."

"The way you run, I don't think so" said Adrastos implying that his Gunnery Sergeant was not as nimble as he once was. "Besides I need you to take command here. Bowman wants a recce and I'm the senior officer in charge."

"All the more reason I think you should stay sir" protested Callisto. "It's a fifteen mile trip there and fifteen miles back on foot with Gods know how many Centurions in between. Even if you make good time you're looking at the better part of a day. At least take another one of our guys with you?" They were suddenly interrupted by a knocking on the door.

"Excuse me" said D'anna Biers standing in the doorway, like them, fully clad in her NBC protection gear and with a rifle slung over her shoulders. To inexperienced eyes it would be difficult to tell who was who given the level of protective clothing the Marines were wearing but Adrastos and Callisto had come to identify each of their men by the sound of their voice and the silhouette of their bodies. By those means Adrastos identified the person standing in the doorway as Miss Biers. "I was just wondering when we are going to go?"

"You in a rush or something?" asked Callisto jokingly.

"I just want to get this over with" said Biers with a hint of panic in her voice. "Believe me it wasn't my choice to come back here and I will be glad to get away from this place." Underneath her exterior D'anna, in reality a Cylon Number Three, was quite pleased with her performance. So far no one had suspected a thing.

"We will be leaving shortly Miss Biers" said Adrastos who was in the process of reassembling his rifle now that he was satisfied with its condition.

"You sure you can use that thing?" Callisto asked Biers referring to her rifle.

"I'm pretty sure" she explained. "A Marine taught me how to use one a few days after the bombing."

"Well if you're going to be taught by anyone it might as well be the best" chanted Callisto. Adrastos suddenly rose to his feet and slung his own rifle over his right shoulder. He did a last minute check of his chest webbing to make sure he had all that he would need; ammunition, rations, map and compass. He made a note not to take a portable wireless with him despite Callisto's objections his reason being that if he were killed or captured the Cylons would have access to their secure frequencies and besides he would never use it because it would alert the Cylons to the rest of his men.

"Alright let's get on with it!" he announced walking over to Callisto and D'anna. Before leaving he turned to Callisto and said, "Remember! Twenty four hours. If we are not back by then you can assume we're dead and inform Hermes when the liaison Raptor jumps in. Clear?"

"Yes sir" replied Callisto still wishing it was he who was going. There was a short silence before Callisto stood to attention and respectfully saluted Adrastos. D'anna watched as Adrastos returned the gesture and thought for a moment that perhaps if the humans had shown that level of respect to the Cylons instead of enslaving them then perhaps there wouldn't have been an uprising? The stray thought triggered an unpleasant sensation in her mind. She wasn't sure what it meant exactly but something was telling her that her programming didn't want her thinking that way. Like all machines D'anna was a slave to her programming without knowing the reason why she was the way she had been made. She put it to the back of her mind and followed Adrastos out into the truckyard to begin their reconnaissance.

* * *

THE EREBUS BELT  
TWO HOURS LATER

The carcass of the Cylon Raider hung in the debris field as quietly and unobtrusively as though, like the rocks surrounding it, the small craft had been there for countless numbers of centuries. This particular little warrior had fallen victim to the guns of 'Chester's Viper during the brief but violent encounter two days earlier. Much of the central fuselage had been blown away with large gaping holes littering the Cylon's wings.

An ominous blue glow engulfed the otherwise darkened scene as a Viper Mark VII maneuvered into position alongside the carcass. 'Slammer' peered through his transparent cockpit canopy as his eyes struggled to make sense of what he was seeing in the poorly lit region of space. Frustrated, he lowered his landing gear and used the approach light on the front landing strut to illuminate the hull.

"'Stinger' this is 'Slammer'" he announced over the wireless. "I got one at Green Two-Niner. Fuselage has been beaten up pretty bad."

"What about the wingroot?" asked the crackled voice of Chief Imlay who was aboard 'Stinger's Raptor. "That's where the missile bays are located?"

"I can't really see from this position" explained 'Slammer'. "I'm going around for a better look."

'Slammer' gently tapped his control column to the right and the Viper's thrusters nudged the small craft to starboard. Adding a bit of left yaw in order to keep the nose of the Viper facing the dead Raider 'Slammer' waited for the appropriate angle to present itself. Now underneath the Raider he nudged the controls to the left to counteract the starboard drift and his Viper became stationary. The whole Raider was suddenly engulfed in a brilliant white light which startled 'Slammer' slightly who instinctively looked over to the right at the source of the illumination only to find 'Stinger's Raptor moving silently into position. His eyes returned to the Raider carcass and thanks to the brilliant white light he could now inspect the craft properly.

"The port missile bay has taken a hit" he reported over the wireless. "The doors are open and one missile is hanging out. There doesn't appear to be any damage to it so it maybe salvageable. Starboard is intact. I think we got a winner."

* * *

'STINGER'S RAPTOR

"Roger that 'Slammer'" said Imlay who was sitting up front with 'Stinger'. Since the Raptor was under combat conditions and to speed things up Imlay was already suited up ready for a spacewalk. "Alright I'm coming over."

Chief Imlay unbuckled himself from the front seat and began to climb into the rear compartment where 'Walleye' was working at ECMO station.

"Gamma radiation is normal" reported 'Walleye' so they haven't gone hot."

"Well that's something I suppose" grumbled Imlay as he climbed into the Mobile Maneuvering Unit, something he was becoming increasingly used to doing. "Gods! I'm so supposed to be a Deck Chief. The principle word there is Deck as in _staying on_."

'Walleye' chuckled as their headsets garbled with a wireless message.

"'Stinger' this is 'Hot Top'. I got another one at Green Two-Six. This was the bastard who tried to run home. There isn't much left of him. We could take a piece and use it for a paper weight I suppose."

This little remark over the wireless annoyed 'Stinger' somewhat. A trait he had developed since being appointed CAG was a hatred for any unnecessary wireless chatter even if he did feel a little hypocritical about it having previously been guilty of many such infractions. Back then he didn't fully realize the seriousness of his seemingly harmless actions but becoming CAG had brought with it a new wisdom and he now truly appreciated the dangers of blocking the wireless channels. With that in mind he chose to reprimand her back aboard Hermes rather than spend wireless time telling her to shut up.

"'Ok 'Hot Top' bring yourself over here. You and 'Slammer' take up a defensive posture and cover us."

"Roger that 'Stinger'" replied 'Hot Top'.

The rear hatch opened as Imlay positioned himself in order to leap from the craft. He watched as 'Slammer's Viper thrusted upward and away from the Raider to join 'Hot Top' who was now circling several hundred yards above them. For the third time in a week Imlay leapt from the door of a Raptor to traverse the vacuum of space with only several layers of dense fabric and a helmet to protect him and keep him alive.

Using the thrusters of the MMU he moved slowly across to the dead Raider. This was the easy part. It was stopping that had proven a problem during the salvage missions to the Alexis and the destroyed Hangar Pod. Intent on not smashing into the hull of a Raider armed with nuclear weapons he applied the braking thrusters particularly early thus stopping several meters away from the Cylon. Very slowly he applied forward thrust and he gently tapped alongside the starboard wing of the Raider with such little force that it barely made any impression on the carcass.

"Ok let's get this over with" he sighed as he prepared himself. Working with nuclear weapons always left him a bag of nerves although he didn't truly understand why? He had worked with them many times during his career and he knew he was at just as much risk from conventional ordinance as he was from the weapons of mass destruction. There was just something about handling a device that has the potential to wipe out part of a small city that made it all the more nerve racking.

He moved over to the opened port missile bay. Since one missile was already hanging out then this would be a good place to start. Not only would it be easier to get the missile free but it would also give him a chance to inspect the Cylon launch mechanism and get an idea of the kind of modifications he would need to make to a Raptor in order to send the missile back to the Cylons so to speak.

The missile was barely half a meter in length and Imlay knew that its small size disguised the destructive force the weapon was capable of. Like Colonial Fleet nuclear missiles the Cylon weapon had a variable yield warhead that worked by altering how the nuclear reaction worked. The benefit of this type of weapon is that it can be tailored to a specific target. After observing these weapons in action the crew of the Battlestar Hermes estimated that the maximum yield of one of these weapons could be somewhere in the 300 to 400 kiloton range. While hardly big enough to destroy a Battlestar it could inflict serious damage to a confined area as well as affect DRADIS with its electromagnetic pulse thus opening the door for further attacks to finish off the target.

Inspecting the weapon Imlay saw that it was held onto a rotating launch rail by two launch pins that would break off when the weapon was fired. One of these pins was indeed broken but the other was still in place and holding the missile on. After looking over the whole mechanism for a few minutes Chief Imlay couldn't help but be impressed by the simplicity of the design which no doubt greatly improved reliability. A voice in his head wished that whoever designed this system had also designed the one on the Viper Mark VII. Although no one knew his name, every Deck Chief in the Colonial Fleet scorned the frakwood who designed the troublesome missile launcher on the current Viper and they all wondered why they didn't stick with the proven systems from the older fighters.

Imlay took hold of the body of the missile just below the warhead and placed his feet against the body of the Raider. In one swift move he kicked upward with his legs to try and nudge the weapon free of the last pin. It took three more attempts before suddenly the pin broke and the missile was free but Imlay was now floating away from the Raider with a nuclear missile in his hands!

"Oh frak!" he gasped as he tried to keep hold of the weapon with his left hand and at the same time try and regain control of himself with his right hand on the control column of the MMU. Finally under control he breathed a sigh of relief before returning to the Raptor with the weapon. Stopping just off the Raptor's port wing he waited for 'Walleye', who was tethered to a safety cable, to come to him.

With his right hand wrapped around the cable in order to pull himself back in, 'Walleye' leaned out and took hold the missile from Imlay who had been cuddling the weapon with as much care as if it were a newborn child. As he took hold of the weapon from Imlay the Chief uttered, "Please be careful" but he realized he wasn't transmitting and so 'Walleye' didn't hear it. On a planet with gravity the missile would weigh close to five hundred kilograms but in space the weapon could be handled with just one hand. Tucking the missile under his left armpit 'Walleye' pulled himself back inside the Raptor where he placed the weapon inside a leather bag secured to the cargo netting to stop it freely floating around the cabin. 'Stinger' watched 'Walleye' zipping up the bag and thus sealing the missile away. "That's one" he uttered.

Imlay had already made his way back to the Raider carcass and was examining the sealed up starboard missile bay. The seal was so perfect that Imlay had to really search for the separation between the weapons door and the rest of the hull. There was no space between the two to squeeze anything in to try and pry the doors open so Imlay knew he was going to have to burn through it with the laser torch from the equipment in his utility pack. It was slow and frustrating work made all the more difficult by the fineness of the seal that he was using as a visual reference since this was the only way he could be sure that he wouldn't accidentally snag the missiles inside. Her persevered however and soon completed the circumference of the weapons bay door which simply floated away after a nudge from his left hand. Imlay peered into the hole he had just made and saw two more missiles on a rotary launcher. He figured that there must have been another missile in the port weapons bay but had probably been thrown clear of the Raider during its destruction and would now be impossible to find. Looking at the launcher assembly he decided to cut the pylon holding the rotary mechanism in place and take the whole thing back to the Raptor. This would save time and give him a better understanding of how these things were supposed to work.

It took a little longer to cut through the thick pylon and the confined space made it all the more difficult to work. Once it was done he disengaged the laser torch and returned it to the utility pack attached to the MMU. He then carefully reached in and pulled the rotary launcher through the hole he had made in the weapons bay doors. Looking at the simple little mechanism he once again couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship of the Cylons.

A few moments later 'Walleye' helped the Chief back into the Raptor with his precious cargo before closing the hatch to allow 'Stinger' to begin taking them back to Hermes. Both 'Hot Top' and 'Slammer' formed up on the Raptor to provide escort. Imlay gladly uncoupled himself from the MMU and made his way back up front with 'Stinger'. Imlay's face was covered in a nervous sweat.

"Gods what I'd give for a shower instead of a wet wipe wash" grumbled Imlay who was now hooked back in to the Raptor Intercom.

"Well maybe when this operation is over there will be enough water supplies for one?" said 'Stinger' optimistically.

"You really think Bowman is going to go through with this?" asked Imlay half hoping that their CO would change his mind about deliberately picking a fight with the Cylons even though he knew that there was probably no other choice left open. Neither 'Stinger' nor 'Walleye' answered the Chief's question verbally although their silence was enough of an answer in itself. "Well then at least whatever plans their devising back aboard Hermes is going to work."

"You sure are confident?" laughed 'Walleye'.

"Well" said Imlay. "Look at it this way. If it doesn't work then we'll all be dead and it won't matter anyway."

Not even Imlay laughed at his joke.


	32. Chapter 32

THE SERENA VALLEY  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

The sun was beginning to set on the valley, not that anyone could see it through the dense cloud cover however. What little light that could get through the thick clouds was filtered into a dull grey colour and reflected the somber atmosphere that this world now possessed. Pikeston was the third significant settlement that Lieutenant Adrastos and D'Anna Biers had traversed through in the past five hours. In that time they had managed to cover almost nine miles. Their progress was slowed by the need to be cautious for they really were stepping into the unknown. This was enemy held territory and they had little information to go on regarding the disposition of enemy forces. That was the primary reason they were there after all, to gather such intelligence.

The main road that ran through the township was directly linked to another road that led all the way back to the distribution centre. When the time came for them to make their move this was going to be the route they would take. An alternative route through the dense forestry surrounding the Serena Valley was also in consideration but could add anywhere upto an hour onto the journey time as well as offer virtually unlimited locations for a Cylon ambush. The narrower road also had another problem in that if one truck was disabled by enemy fire then there simply wasn't enough room for the following truck to get around. All a Cylon squad would have to do is disable the lead truck and the rear truck and all would be lost. The road through Pikeston was designed for such vehicles to operate on but had the disadvantage of having several areas that were in quite open territory. Speed was going to have to be the key to the operation. This route offered the most direct passage to the stadium and that meant less time on the road to the Landing Zone at the stadium as well as decreasing the vulnerability of the Alexis. As of yet there was no word on what air support Adrastos and his Marines could expect to get.

Adrastos slammed his left shoulder into the archway of a rather large doorway that provided him cover as he leaned outward just enough for his right eye to scan ahead of him. Biers followed behind him and kept herself tucked in behind the Lieutenant waiting for his signal to move. Adrastos kept his rifle low and tucked down infront of him so that he reduced his own visibility to anyone who might be glancing down the street but at the same time keeping it within quick and easy reach should he need it in a hurry. His eye darted across from window to doorway to window searching for any sign of movement or even the sparkling of metal from a Centurion's body. About sixty yards ahead of them there was a road junction on the left. The houses and shops that the two of them were using for cover were unfortunately also obscuring the adjoining road and this was always a serious obstacle to overcome. There could be a whole force of Centurions standing there waiting for someone to carelessly walk passed and then it would be game over.

He checked the buildings again before signaling to D'Anna to follow him. He quickly darted from the large doorway and walked quickly down the road keeping close to the shops and country houses on his left in an effort to keep his body confused within the clutter of the structures. He stopped several feet away from the junction beside a red bricked house whose door was swinging on its hinges in the gentle wind. He pulled D'Anna inside with him and motioned her to stay in the hallway of the house just to the left of the door. D'Anna nodded and so Adrastos silently and slowly began to make his way through the house with his weapon drawn out in front of him. His aim was to get onto the opposite side of the small home and get a look down the adjoining street. The home was well decorated and showed only minor signs of a disturbance. A few cups and ornaments had been knocked over here and there but other than that it was still in reasonably good condition. Although he had made a deliberate effort not to he couldn't help but notice the pictures of family and friends that sat on the shelves of the living room and he reasoned that there must have been an elderly couple living here when the Cylons invaded. Adrastos had expected to find masses of bodies but D'Anna explained that her resistance team had observed Centurions moving the bodies to incinerators.

As quietly as he could he made his way to the window in the living room that looked out onto the adjoining road and kneeled below it keeping his head as low as possible. Slowly, he reached into a pocket in his chest webbing that covered the upper torso of his NBC suit and took out his small standard issue shaving mirror. This seemingly mundane piece of hygienic equipment no bigger than the palm of Adrastos' hand served a secondary purpose. He took out his survival kinfe and placed the small mirror on the top of the blade. The magnetic surface on the back of the mirror held it in place as Adrastos slowly raised it up over the window ledge being careful not to catch the sunlight for even a small amount would reflect like a star going super nova. He tilted it back and fore to get the angle to look down the street and saw that it was as empty as the rest of Pikeston.

Adrastos relaxed as his arm lowered and he removed the mirror from his knife before putting it back in his webbing. As he put the knife back into his belt his ears seemed to twitch even under the sealed leather of his NBC respirator that covered his whole face. Something had disturbed him and he sensed it was coming towards him from inside the house. He slowly raised his rifle towards the only door that lead to the room and tucked it into his right shoulder as he released the safety but kept his finger resting on the trigger guard.

As he waited, poised with his rifle, he distinctly heard small and slow footsteps coming towards him. It didn't sound like a Centurion but then again who knew what their full spectrum of capabilities was. They could have a kind of 'lightfoot' mode? As the sound got even closer his animal instincts began to take over as adrenalin rushed through his body. He felt more powerful and energetic and yet at the same time he felt like he was a trapped animal with a predator closing in on him.

Staring down the rifle barrel he began to wonder how effective the rounds in the magazine would be if it was a Centurion. They were armour piercing, designed for fighting the Centurions of the First Cylon War era, but he didn't know if they offered the stopping power he would need to take down a Centurion quickly before it could retaliate.

The sound was now right outside the room and his arms seemed to stiffen up. He knew that anything that appeared infront of him in just a few seconds would get a burst of weapons fire. As the figure appeared in the doorway Adrastos quickly tilted the barrel of his weapon high into air and into a safe direction as he saw the familiar figure of D'Anna in her NBC suit and her rifle still slung around her shoulder.

"Gods damn it!" gasped Adrastos through gritted teeth. He jumped to his feet and lunged at D'Anna pinning her against the wall with his left arm across her neck. "What the frak are you doing here? I told you to stay in the doorway. I could have frakking killed you!"

"I-I'm sorry" stuttered D'Anna. "I need to use the bathroom and I thought maybe I could use the one in here."

"You need to use the bathroom!" repeated Adrastos in disbelief that she had almost been killed for something so trivial.

"Yes!" said D'anna. "It's a basic _human_ function."

Adrastos released his grip on her and took a step back as he began to calm down. D'anna looked at him observing his actions as though this was an elaborate laboratory experiment and she was studying how a Rat might react under stress. This thought caused the ends of her lips to curl with a twisted glee underneath the respirator that concealed the features of her face.

"Go on!" snapped Adrastos waving his right arm to motion her to go and to also burn off some of the startled energy that was running through his body. D'Anna simply turned away and began to make her way up the stairs of the house to the bathroom on the next floor.

Adrastos couldn't keep his feet still as he waited for her to come back. Twice he returned to the window to keep a lookout but the streets outside remained empty and so he decided to sit down on one of the chairs in the middle of the room. He was finally starting to come down from his heightened sense of alarm and he rather carelessly allowed his head to droop back as he became comfortable in the soft padded seat, a feeling he had long forgotten when describing his dwellings recently. Although he didn't mean for it to happen his eyelids lowered as enjoyed this momentary break.

They suddenly burst open again! He was sure he heard it over the sound of D'Anna walking back down the stairs. He jumped to his feet and moved towards her as quickly and as quietly as he could. Once he reached her at the bottom of the stairs he placed his right index finger over the respirator where his mouth was concealed underneath to signal for her to be quiet. D'Anna obeyed and the two of them seemed to do everything in their power to maintain the silence. Adrastos even noticed that he had stopped breathing as he listened out for the sound again.

Clunk! Clunk!

The unmistakable sound of a Centurion was growing louder and louder as it came nearer to the house. With the sound bouncing off the walls it was difficult to make out where it was coming from but it definitely sounded like a solitary Centurion was outside. Adrastos pushed D'Anna carefully back up five steps of the staircase and he took up the place at the bottom. There they hid and waited until the clunking sound appeared outside the front door and stopped.

Hours seemed to pass as opposed to the several seconds that the Centurion actually stood there before continuing its way down the street. Once it had gone passed the house Adrastos kept listening for the sound again to indicate either that there were more of them or that the Centurion had returned. There was neither.

"Why only one?" he uttered under his breath.

When he felt that it was safe to do so Adrastos quietly lead D'Anna back towards the front door and used his mirror once more to look for the Centurion. He angled it across the road and saw the Cylon standing in the road looking up at a sign above a café. The sign had an illustration painted on it of a stereotypical family eating at the restaurant with an attractive young waitress taking their order. The painting had faded slightly in the dirty air of the poisoned atmosphere but could still be seen by a human or Cylon eye.

"What is it doing?" asked Adrastos just loud enough for D'Anna to hear it.

"What?" whispered D'anna. "What's going on?"

"It's just staring up at a sign above the café across the road" explained Adrastos. Still looking with his mirror Adrastos watched as the Centurion suddenly turned to the left in quite a clumsy fashion. This gave him a clear view at the Cylon and he could see that there was a gaping hole on the back of the Centurion's head unit. "It's been damaged."

"Damaged! Damaged where?" asked D'anna.

"Its head unit" explained Adrastos before pointing with his free hand to a spot on the side of his head just below his ear indicating where the Cylon had been damaged.

D'Anna knew this was potentially bad for her mission, her real mission. The spot where the Centurion was damaged was where the inhibitor for the higher functions of the Centurion's brain was located. She knew that without it there was a possibility that the Cylon would refuse her commands or even open fire on her. Without the inhibitor the Centurion had total free will.

"It's moving away" said Adrastos as he observed the injured Centurion walking down the street adjacent to the house they were concealed in. "Alright let's go!"

With their weapons poised the two of them quietly made their way outside the house and down to the road junction. Adrastos checked the road but the Centurion was nowhere to be seen or heard so he signaled to D'Anna to continue and the two of them made a dash across the road to take cover infront of the small shop on the other side of the junction.

"Where did it go?" asked D'Anna as they ducked under the large front window.

"I don't know" said Adrastos. "Maybe it's trying to get back to its unit or something? Perhaps one of your resistance buddies put that hole in it? Let's not wait around to have the opportunity to ask it though. Alright let's go!"

Adrastos rose to his feet and began to run further down the road in an effort to get away as quickly as he could. There was suddenly an almighty crashing sound from behind him and he turned on the spot to find the damaged Centurion leaping through the shop window knocking D'Anna to the ground before it landed. It immediately turned towards D'Anna ignoring Adrastos and its talons retracted as its guns moved in to replace them.

Instinctively, Adrastos raised his rifle and fired a short burst into the Centurion. The bullets hit the heavily armoured back of the Cylon and simply ricocheted off. Having been nudged forward by the gunfire the Centurion spun around to face Adrastos who dived into the alleyway beside the shop, a hail of bullets cutting through the bricks and mortar just inches behind the Marine as he took cover.

Hearing the heavy sounding footsteps of the centurion racing towards the alleyway Adrastos wasted no time as he ran to the other end of the shop. His heart beat so hard in his chest that it felt like someone was hitting his rib cage from the inside with a sledgehammer. He knew he had little time to react. Centurions were hard chargers. They never gave you time to catch your breath and almost always put you on the defensive. A plan quickly formulated in his head and he knew he had only one chance to pull it off or he would be dead.

As he reached the end of the alleyway he took out his only grenade from his chest webbing and pulled the pin. He seemed to leap to the left to take cover behind the wall as the Centurion reached the opposite side of the alley and sent a short burst of gunfire towards him. The bullets hissed through the air over the sound of the Centurion's metal feet that were rapidly closing in on the Lieutenant.

With only moments to react Adrastos threw the grenade into the alley from behind the wall. He instinctively turned his back as the grenade exploded in the alleyway just yards away from him. A loud ringing suddenly filled his eardrums. The exploding grenade had completely disoriented him. He didn't know if it had worked or if the Centurion was behind him ready to finish the job and kill him.

He almost had to dare himself to look back over his shoulder at the alleyway. As his eyes looked back there was no sign of the Centurion. Feeling a little more reassured he slowly turned around and held his rifle out ready in case it was a rouse even though he now knew the weapon had only a limited effect on the Cylon's armour. It nevertheless made him feel safer and more confident to check the alleyway. The ringing in his ears was beginning to settle and he was sure that he couldn't hear anything from the Centurion. He took a breath as he readied himself to go into the alleyway and inspect the status of his adversary.

He jumped into the alleyway with his weapon drawn not sure what to expect. To his relief he saw the body of the Centurion lying in bits in the middle of the alleyway. The grenade appeared to have exploded near the Cylon's waist thus cutting the metal super soldier in two. This was not always a guarantee that the Cylon was effectively dead since the new Centurions had proven that they can remain operational even if as much as fourty per cent of the body was destroyed.

Adrastos seemed to be frozen as he looked on at the Centurion almost waiting for it to do something. In his semi-panicked state he failed to notice that its distinctive red 'eye' had stopped glowing. His senses were now sharpened but his logic was tainted by a feeling of deep fear. Once he had managed to calm himself enough to assess the situation properly he slowly walked forward towards the top half of the Centurion. Its head was tilted to the side with shrapnel from the grenade lodged inside. Standing over it Adrastos kicked its head and jumped back ready to react. The Cylon failed to move. Adrastos was satisfied that it was dead.

His thoughts suddenly turned to D'Anna and he raced back through the alleyway. When he reached the other side he turned to the right and saw D'Anna lying motionless on the road outside the shop with glass from the broken window littering the scene around her. Adrastos ran towards her and fell to his knees beside her to check on her condition. Her neck and jaw had been severed by the talons of the Centurion and only her respirator was keeping her face together.

"Frak!" sighed Adrastos as he slumped onto the floor beside her. His eyes screwed shut as he fought the pain of having to accept in his mind that he had failed her. She was a civilian and he was the professional soldier. It was his duty to protect her and he had failed. It was an irrational sentiment but then again so is man.

He took a moment to consider his next move. In all likelihood the injured Centurion was acting without the consent or support of the main Cylon army and so he reasoned that this tragic encounter didn't affect his overall mission. Unless he encountered significant Cylon forces he was to continue on with his reconnaissance of the planned route the trucks would be taking to the stadium.

He gathered his thoughts and lifted himself to his feet. He looked down at the body of D'anna and thought what to do with it. It didn't seem right to just leave it there lying in the road. He looked into the shop and saw that it sold old refurbished furniture. He leaned down and began to remove her rifle and chest webbing to make her lighter. He then placed his arms under her neck and knees and lifted her up before carrying her into the shop. He looked around and saw an old velvet couch sitting in the corner and so he took her over to it and placed her down rather delicately. Even though she wouldn't feel anything anymore he tried to put her into a pose that at least resembled some degree of comfort.

He kneeled beside her and held his head down somberly.

"Lords of Kobol hear my prayer. Take your servant, D'anna, into your arms."

* * *

THE COLONY  
'SPACEBOURNE CYLON HOMEWORLD'

To be reborn is a painful experience.

D'Anna's face burst through the gelatinous contents of the rebirthing tank as she took her first breath in her new body. In an almost panicked state she twisted and writhed in pain as her digital spirit fought to adjust to the new body that she was now occupying. It felt tight and she experienced a sensation similar to being squeezed into a rubber sack that adjusted itself to her.

"Sssshhhh!" cooed a voice. Another Number Three stood behind her and began caressing D'Anna's forehead to calm her sister down. "Just breath through it. That's it." Whenever possible there is always another Cylon of the same model as the one being resurrected to help with the process. The calming effect of her sister did indeed help D'Anna relax as she felt herself becoming one with the new body and thus the process of resurrection was complete.

D'Anna sat upright, pulling herself away from the Number Three's hands now that she was calmer and more composed. She rubbed the gel from her face and looked around at those gathered around her. There was a representative from all seven of the so-called 'Significant Seven' Cylon models and all looked on at her eager for her to report the events that lead to her 'demise'.

"Centurion!" she gasped.

"A Centurion?" asked the Six.

"A centurion killed me" explained D'Anna still fighting to catch her breath in her new body. The One and the Four looked at each other as both jumped to the conclusion that a Centurion may have risen up against them somehow, something they had gone to great lengths to try and prevent. "It was damaged. It attacked me."

"Damaged?" asked the Four. "Damaged how?"

"There was damage to its head unit" continued D'Anna as she lifted herself out of the rebirthing tank, her naked body shining with gel. The other Three helped her out of the tank and handed her a white bath robe to cover herself with. Taking the first steps after being resurrected is like walking with new shoes on. D'Anna was a little uncertain of herself at first but she quickly adapted.

"The Centurion's telencephalic inhibitor must have been damaged" surmised the Four whose model represented the medically inclined aspect of Cylon society. "That would explain its unusual behavior."

"Never mind that now" interjected the Six. "What about Bowman's plan? Do you have the details of it?"

"I'm afraid not" said D'Anna who was now drying her hair. "All I know for sure is that it involves a ship they recovered from the Erebus Belt and they plan to land it in a sports stadium south of the Serena Valley."

"Bowman wants to _land _a ship on Scorpia?" asked the Five in near disbelief.

"Yes!" replied D'Anna. "The Alexis. It's the same ship Natalie was aboard. They've recovered it and it's currently docked aboard Hermes." There was some surprise at the boldness of the plan.

"Raptors are one thing" said the Eight. "They're small and designed to emit a low IR and DRADIS signature. We've been able to detect their supply runs simply because we had an idea of where they were going to emerge from their FTL jumps. But to send a civilian transport ship down would be like announcing themselves to the universe. There's no way they could hide it from our sensors. What are they thinking?"

"Desperation perhaps?" suggested the Five.

"That's not the feeling I got from Bowman" said D'Anna. "They are in a desperate situation, yes, but they seem to be approaching the problem with a rational mind. It's as if it were just another military operation."

"Perhaps on the surface" continued the Five. "They are, after all, little more than animals. Our profile of Bowman always lead us to believe that it would take some coercion to get him back to the colonies and yet he came of his own free will, a gamble that we believed would be out of character. Then when his plan to use Raptors to gather the supplies his ship needed proved unviable he now chooses to embark on a risky plan to use a salvaged ship to do the job. These are the trademarks of a desperate man."

"Desperate men can sometimes surprise you" uttered the Two whose words brought silence to the group. They each looked around at one another as they contemplated this turn of events in their own way. The Four and Five saw it as little more than a change of tactics and no real threat to them while the Two, Six and Eight were more cautious. D'Anna and her sister Three weren't sure what to make of it yet but it was the Number One who summed it up.

"It's obvious we are missing a piece of the puzzle Bowman has set out before us. Really, this doesn't change anything as far as our plans are concerned. Let him make his move."

The Four and Five agreed but it took the others a few moments before they too nodded their acceptance.

* * *

UNIVERSITY OF SCORPIA SCHOOL OF ATHLETICS AND SPORT  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES

The silent stands of the stadium sat in the darkness of the Scorpian night. Where once this was a place would be filled with the sound of spectators cheering with excitement at the sports taking place in the arena below now the only sound that could be heard was silence. The only visitors were the spirits of those who had once occupied the seats.

As well as being a stadium that played host to a variety of regional sporting events, the site could be tailored to a specific requirement, it was also home to the University of Scorpia's School of Athletics and Sport. Adjacent to the one and a half mile wide stadium was a large four storey building where classes were run for future athletes, physical fitness instructors or for those studying the effects of such activities on the human body. During the semester as many as three and a half thousand students would attend the school. The activities that were usually carried out here were now a stark contrast to the deathly silence that hung over the site.

Lieutenant Nester Adrastos had patrolled the stadium for over an hour checking for any sign of Cylon activity. He searched the classrooms of the adjacent building before moving onto the stadium and with everlasting gratitude to the Gods found that the site was indeed empty of anyone; artificial or otherwise.

His tired body forced him to take a seat in the commentator's box that presided over the field below and he tried to picture what it must have been like when it was a hive of activity. Although it was quite dark his natural night vision had adjusted quite nicely and he was able to make out much of the arena below.

Turning his mind from the past he began to look at the site for its intended use. The field itself was large to land a decent sized vessel in the middle and still have enough space to maneuver the trucks into loading position. The high walls of the stands made it easily defendable against approaching ground troops thanks to the high viewpoint and provided some cover the vessel when it was on the ground.

To sum up the site was "Perfect!"


	33. Chapter 33

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE  
32 DAYS SINCE THE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

"One month."

It had been over one month since Artimus Bowman's world had been destroyed and yet somehow it felt like a lifetime ago. As he sat there in his office with a rather small portion of 'Fleet Noodles' in front of him he realized just how selfish the thought sounded in his head. The Human race was all but extinct and yet at that moment all he could think about was how it affects him. This was not a regular thought for the Battlestar Commander to have for he had found that nearly all his thoughts over the past thirty two days had been on his ship and those under his command. He had even gone to great lengths to avoid thinking of himself. He tried to bury himself in his work in an effort not to face his own despair over what had happened. He even went as far as to put the photograph of his wife that he normally kept on his desk into the top drawer of his desk so not to have to look at her and be reminded of the world he had lost. All this effort and yet here he was on the eve of the biggest operation he would have ever undertaken in his military career sitting in his chair with his wife's picture placed in front of him as he ate.

He slowly worked through the bowl of noodles with his chop sticks. If there was any flavor to them his tongue wasn't registering it. As he slowly ate he wondered why he had chosen now to retrieve the photograph. In a kind of pseudo realistic way he felt as though he were having dinner with her one last time. In his mind he could hear her voice talking to him about her day at work. Brooke Bowman was an elementary school teacher in Caprica City and was one of the leaders of the Teacher's Union who were on strike when the Cylons attacked. Artimus had always thought that it was an odd aspect of her personality in that she was generally quite a timid person but extraordinarily passionate about her career to the point where she organized the teachers in her school to take action when the government allowed standards in the classroom to fall.

Sitting to the right of him was sealed envelope marked with 'Lieutenant Nester Adrastos' on the front with a stamp that said 'COMPARTMENTALIZED'. He knew that inside were his signed orders for the Marines on the ground regarding the plan that Hermes would be undertaking this afternoon. Before coming to his office he had attended a briefing by Adonia and Burmeister for their final proposal for the operation. He had agreed to it and preparations were already underway aboard the Battlestar to ready it for combat. The only thing that remained to be done was to confirm with Adrastos that his reconnaissance mission was a success and then inform him of his team's part in the operation.

There was a knock on the hatch. The sharp and sudden noise seemed to snap him out of his momentary self pity. He took hold of the photograph of Brooke and placed it back in the top drawer as if he were somehow ashamed to be seen with it for it reflected his own weakness in this dire time. Weakness was something he felt he dare not show in front of his crew.

"Come in!" he called aloud.

The round handle spun around through two hundred and seventy degrees and the hatch squeaked open to reveal 'Stinger' in his gold flightsuit. 'Stinger' marched up to the table and stood at attention before saluting. Getting to his feet, Bowman returned the compliment.

"Sir!" said 'Stinger'. "The Raptors are ready to go. We've got two on the Hangar Deck crammed with volunteers to load and drive the trucks. We're just waiting for the word, sir?"

Bowman reached down for the sealed orders addressed to Adrastos and handed them to 'Stinger'.

"Depending on the results of Adrastos' reconnaissance" said Bowman. "The operation is a go."

"Understood sir" acknowledged 'Stinger' as he took the orders from his CO. There was a cold atmosphere between the two of them. 'Stinger' had also been briefed on the final plan and both men knew that his part of it was one of the most perilous. Nothing about this operation was guaranteed but 'Stinger's Raptor group almost certainly had the lowest chance of survival when the time came to jump to Scorpia. "Anything else sir?"

"Just one more thing" said Bowman as he reached into his left pocket where he had put a small case he had intended to give to the Lieutenant. "I just wanted to say you've excelled yourself in your new duties as CAG."

"Thank you sir" replied 'Stinger'.

"It couldn't have been easy for you I'm sure. You've taken the responsibility but you haven't taken the title it deserves. Most CAGs are of the rank of Major and to that end." Bowman handed 'Stinger' the case he had removed from the drawer and held out his hand to congratulate him. 'Stinger' opened the case to find two Major's pips inside. Looking at them he never thought he would ever skip a rank in his career. The sad truth was that Hermes had lost most of its senior pilots in the battles following the destruction of the colonies. "You've earned it Major Bolenko."

"Thank you sir" said 'Stinger' unsure how to respond other than to shake Bowman's hand.

After a brief pause between the two of them Bowman said, "Very well. Carry on Major!" 'Stinger' acknowledged the order, saluted and left Bowman alone once more. As he watched the newly promoted Major walk out of his office he couldn't help but feel that perhaps this would be the last time he would probably talk to the young man and with that thought in mind he began to wonder how many of his crew he would never talk to again after today. The operation was a gamble but to do nothing was a sure bet.

Bowman sat back down in his chair and leaned back as his body relaxed. Although he felt guilty about wasting it he had gone off his noodles as if to eat them would be disrespectful to those he would be leading into battle. The only thing that could possibly stop it now was if Adrastos reported back that there were significant ground forces preventing him and his men from getting the supplies to the stadium. Part of him hoped that would be the case but he knew that would be just as big a tragedy as going in with all guns blazing.

* * *

Bowman suddenly found himself walking through a burned forest. Despite all the devastation that had turned the once dense vegetation into a burned out wasteland he somehow knew he was back on Caprica. The trees were scorched into thin black sticks protruding out from the ground and he could still smell the charred bark filling his nostrils. The ground at his feet was little more than ash it felt like sand beneath each footstep. The sky above was dark and grey mixed in with black and red plumes of smoke and fire to create a beautiful yet frightening tapestry across the heavens.

He walked for what seemed like miles through the scorched world. He knew he was dreaming and yet it felt like more than that. He felt as though he had been here before. As if he had seen this devastation in another lifetime and he was reliving it somehow. He soon found himself in an opening between the trees where a ray of bright sunlight was bursting through the clouds as if to paint the dark ash filled ground with colour. It was there he noticed a small flower standing as tall as its stem could make it as if desperately trying to capture the sunlight.

Bowman stood beside it looking down at the small and delicate violet colored petals. He was mesmerized by its splendor and how it seemed to have survived the destruction that had befallen the rest of the forest. He kneeled down to take a closer look. He moved his face closer towards it and the odor of burned wood that lined his nostrils was now replaced by a far more pleasant smell. He tried to identify the smell that was enticing him but the closest thing he could relate it too was the smell of his wife's lavender perfume. It was a welcome smell that he related to better days. As he allowed it to overwhelm his senses he began to realize that the flower hadn't survived the destruction but rather was growing in it as if the destruction had somehow given birth to this new life.

He pulled his eyes away and gazed back up. Several figures were now standing around him. He jumped to his feet and looked around at each of them. He felt he knew them and yet he couldn't place any of their blurred faces. It was like he wasn't allowed to know who they were, only that there were eight of them. He tried to speak but as his mouth opened they all began to look to the sky. Bowman mimicked them and looked up. The ray of sunlight dissipated before a clasp of thunder seemed to rock the ground. The sound was shortly followed by shards of burning debris bursting through the clouds.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE

Bowman was ripped away from his dream. His startled body quickly sat upright as he struggled to find clarity in the surroundings he was in. He was indeed back in his office, alone and as many as several million miles from Caprica. He rubbed his surprised eyes as he looked back on the dream. It was seldom that he recalled dreams and when he did they were usually a non meaningful burst of images and sounds in his mind that had little or no relevance in life and yet this one seemed different. On the surface it didn't make any sense just like any other dream but he couldn't help but feel that there was more to this one. It seemed too real!

He glanced down at his watch. It had been almost two and a half hours since he had fallen sleep and he knew that any minute now 'Stinger' would be making contact with Adrastos and his men. Dismissing the dream Bowman stood up and composed himself into a manner that befitted a Battlestar Commander. It would soon be time to begin the briefings for the operation and he wanted to make sure that he was clear of mind throughout.

* * *

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
SERENA VALLEY  
PHASE I BRIEFING

Gunnery Sergeant Callisto brought the room to attention as Adrastos walked in. While the professional soldiers braced themselves smartly the civilian volunteers who had just been brought in by 'Stinger's Raptor group simply sat and looked on. The civilian volunteers didn't have full NBC clothing for there simply wasn't enough aboard Hermes for them all. To help put their minds at ease they were issued with anti-radiation medication despite the need to conserve them. There was still a lot of distrust between the civilians and the military after what had happened aboard the Scylla and some of the volunteers felt that they were being lied to regarding the low risk of radiation poisoning. To help further reassure them Adrastos had ordered that his own Marines remove their respirator masks during this briefing.

Many of them were wearing dark coveralls issued to them from the ship stores to cover up their own more brightly colored civilian garments. Many felt that this was a waste of time since the Cylons were machines and their visual scanners could pick out even the slightest bit of movement or discrepancy. It was unclear if they could also pick out Infra-red or Ultra-violet radiation as well since they could apparently see through the night with no real impediment. The uniformity of the darkened clothes did however help make them feel more as a unit or team rather than individuals.

Adrastos accepted Callisto's salute and instructed him to relax the men before standing in front of the assembled group. There were eighteen civilians along with thirteen Marines all assembled inside the room. There were another eight Marines outside watching the perimeter and they would be receiving this briefing shortly after when their vital job could be covered by others. Adrastos took a moment to read all their faces. Some were scared. Others were confused as if they were somehow caught up in something they didn't fully understand. One or two of them just had blank expressions on their faces.

"Right!" said Adrastos. "Firstly I want to start by saying thank you to all those of you who have volunteered for this assignment. I can't begin to imagine what's going through your heads at this point and I'm sure you all have some sort of apprehension about what lays ahead of us. Gods know I have and you wouldn't be human if you didn't but just remember this; we've got your back! Don't start having any delusions of fighting the Cylons. If all goes well we shouldn't even see a single one of the bastards but if we do encounter enemy forces your job of getting the trucks to the landing zone remains unchanged. Now we have managed to get fifteen trucks ready for this operation and believe me we are going to need every last one of them. Now the LZ lays some fifteen miles to the south of our current position. It's a former sports stadium that is big enough for our needs and is defendable should we be required to do so. The route itself seems to be devoid of any significant Cylon activity so they're not expecting anything like this. A Cylon patrol does fly over every six hours and we have timed this operation to ensure that we take full advantage of this window of opportunity. Any questions so far?"

There was a low mumbling from several members of the group but this failed to produce a question from any of them.

"Alright then" continued Adrastos. "The game plan is as follows. In four hours we will begin to make our way to the LZ. Now we have a map that will be issued to each truck with the designated route highlighted on it. Now, please take note of the following fact. Each driver is responsible for his own map. If a map is lost for any reason we will assume the security of our route has been compromised and we will abort the operation. If we abort the operation then the people aboard Hermes starve! It's that frakking simple! If your vehicle is disabled or you face capture or death you should do your very best to destroy your map for the sake of the mission."

There were more mutterings from the civilian drivers. Dieing was not what they had signed up for and several of them felt they had made a grave mistake. Secretly, Adrastos too wished he could have just stayed on Hermes and let someone else do this job as the burden he was facing became clear. This was more than a military operation. It was an operation to save what was left of humanity. His own words were turning back on him as if he were giving this briefing to himself.

"Now I mentioned earlier that we have been able to get fifteen trucks ready for this operation. Unfortunately that is not nearly enough for what we are planning and therefore we are going to have to make two trips in total. Now on the first trip we will be taking along lifting equipment including forklift trucks to help load the supplies onto the Alexis quickly. Time is our enemy. The longer the Alexis is on the ground the more vulnerable it is to air attack. To limit this factor the Hermes and Alexis will make their move when we are half way through the second trip. Loading of the first convoy should be completed by the time we arrive with the second."

"Uh…Excuse me!" A voice from a rather burly looking civilian in the front row was followed by his raised hand as though he were in a school classroom.

"Yes?" asked Adrastos slightly annoyed at the interruption but letting it pass.

"What do we do if a truck is damaged or breaks down?" asked the man.

The question had caught the attention of everyone in the room. It was something that they were all thinking about but it had taken the frankness of this particular civilian, whom Adrastos reasoned to be around thirty five and looking every bit the stereotypical truck driver, to voice it.

"That's a good question Mr…Um?" asked Adrastos.

"Blake! Rory Blake."

"Mr. Blake" repeated Adrastos before returning to addressing the whole group. "If a truck breaks down enroute to the stadium then we will recover the crew quickly and continue on without it. We will just have to leave whatever it's carrying." Adrastos paused before continuing in order to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to say next. He wondered how it would be received by the volunteers. "As I said before, if all goes well then we shouldn't encounter a single Cylon during this operation. If, however, we do and a truck is disabled by enemy fire the rest of the trucks should continue onwards to the stadium. If we attempt a rescue we will become fixed targets and there is no way we can survive a firefight with Centurions under those circumstances. If your vehicle is disabled then my advice to you is to destroy your map and try to run. There are resistance cells out there. Try to hook up with them. I'm sorry but we simply don't have a choice."

The Marines took this news better than the civilians did. Some of them felt that they had been lied to by the military regarding volunteering. A few accepted the reality of what they were facing. These ones had loved ones aboard Hermes and their thoughts were on giving them the best chance for survival. Again, there were those who stayed silent. These were the ones who had lost everything in the attack on their homeworlds. They were the ones who didn't care whether they lived or died.

Adrastos continued with his briefing outlining the route they would be taking and explaining what he had seen. Several alternative routes were also discussed but it was clear that these weren't preferable. Once the initial shock of what lay ahead of them was over Adrastos felt more comfortable with the civilians and his briefing began to feel like any other he had given in the five years he had been in the service.

* * *

BATTLESTER HERMES PILOT'S BRIEFING ROOM  
PHASE II BRIEFING

'Magma' walked into the briefing room expecting to find the bulk of the remaining air wing squeezed into the room. Instead she found just four people waiting for 'Stinger' to arrive. Sitting in his usual seat in the centre of the third row was 'Sundried'. In front of him was his ECMO, 'Decca', who sat next to another ECMO, 'Fuzz'. A third Raptor ECMO sat in the front row on the far right. It was 'Stinger's designated ECMO 'Walleye'. They had all been talking when she entered the room but upon seeing her arrive there was a sudden hushed silence.

"Is this it?" she asked referring to the small numbers.

"So far" replied 'Sundried'. 'Magma' was used to the silence that often followed her arrival into a room. It was a phenomenon that had occurred ever since her first ECMO was killed in unusual circumstances during the first week after the Cylons attacked. It was indeed odd for the hatch on a Raptor to suddenly break open without the pilot noticing!

"Well it's obviously a Raptor mission" said 'Decca' speculatively.

"Three Raptors by the looks of things" added 'Magma' as she took her seat. "Hey 'Walleye', you know anything about this?"

'Walleye' simply shook his head in a disapproving sort of way. The assembled crews waited a few minutes for 'Stinger' to arrive. The room basked in the silence brought on by 'Magma's arrival. 'Fuzz' looked particularly uncomfortable at the prospect of having to fly yet another mission with 'Magma'. The hatch at the bottom right of the briefing room swung open and in walked 'Stinger' still adorning his gold flightsuit, he and 'Walleye' having just returned from a liaison mission to Scorpia. The five assembled flight crew stood to attention as 'Stinger' closed the hatch behind him and made his way to the podium.

"Be seated!" he ordered as he readied himself to begin. 'Stinger' placed both his hands on the podium and began to lean onto it as if he somehow needed it to keep him upright. His eyes looked down to find the words he needed but saw only his boots. Knowing there was no escape for him he looked back up at them and opened his mouth to just let the words flow out. "I haven't been your CAG for very long." All of them had noticed the rather aged expression on the man who was in his early twenties. The Major pips that were clipped to his uniform seemed to add ten years. There was a small pause before he rather sullenly continued. "But we've flown together for a while now. So with that in mind I'm going to be blunt and just come out and say it. Our job is going to be to take out the Baseships in orbit. And chances are it will be the last thing we ever do." 'Stinger' felt a little foolish at saying it but he was proud of the fact that he wasn't going to lie to them.

"Just three Raptors?" asked a rather stunned 'Sundried'.

'Stinger' nodded before answering "Yes! Chief Imlay is currently rigging the Cylon nukes we acquired from their Raiders to our Raptors. To the best of our knowledge there are only three Baseships in orbit above Scorpia. Of all the colonies Scorpia was the least populated and it looks like the Cylons felt that three was enough to secure it. Each Raptor is going to take responsibility for taking out one Baseship. Now we can't simply just fly in there and hope we get our nukes off so this is the plan."

'Stinger' accessed the digital projector control panel embedded into the podium and the lights in the room darkened as an image of Scorpia appeared on the wall behind him. Three rings were wrapped around the planet each representing a known orbit of the three Baseships.

"To the best of our information the three Baseships appear to have established three separate orbits; equatorial, polar and one in a higher geosynchronous orbit apparently to cover the shortfall from the other two. We will each jump into the atmosphere of Scorpia below the Cylon orbital DRADIS at different locations and terrain mask our way to points where we can intercept our designated Baseships. Now we can expect to take some anti-aircraft fire so you need to keep your eyes peeled. We will use the Raptor's onboard Ultraviolet and Infra-red navigational telescopes to pinpoint the locations of our targets. Once that is done, at a predetermined time we will each enter in the coordinates to our jump computers. Our aim will be to emerge from the jump-"

"Wow!" interjected 'Magma' rather sharply. "Just a minute! We're going to jump from inside an atmosphere into orbit? The FTL computers aren't calibrated to make a jump that small."

"Well if you let me finish, 'Magma', I will explain how this is going to work." Stinger returned his eyes to the screen. "To help calculate the jump our Raptors are being fitted with a second FTL computer from the downed Raptors. This will double the processing capability and thus allow us to calculate the jump. Our goal is to emerge from the jump approximately three hundred meters from the central axis of each Baseship. This will put us well inside their Raider CAP but remember; as soon as we emerge from the jump with primed nukes under our wings their radiological alarms are going to go mental. You will probably have just a few seconds to get your nukes off. Your target is this hangar bay door here." The image changed to a close up of the central axis of a Baseship with a large opening that was big enough for two Raptors to enter. "We believe this is their hangar deck for their larger resupply and landing craft. This is your bull's eye. Get the nuke in there and the whole frakking thing will go up."

'Stinger' looked at his assembled team. Now they knew why he had said what he did at the beginning of the briefing. Even if they got the missile into the target area successfully chances are they would get caught in the blast. Each of them visited their souls in their way but none of them spoke up. Not even 'Magma'.

"Once our missiles are away we should begin jump prep immediately. The additional FTL computers will speed up calculation times but I don't need to tell you what you're all thinking. At best that will be clutching at straws. Your best bet will be to try and use the blast from the nukes to cover your retreat while you calculate the jump. Their DRADIS will be screwed up and they probably won't be able to differentiate between you and debris." 'Stinger' paused thoughtfully. "A-Anybody want to say anything?"

There was silence for several long seconds and 'Stinger' felt as though he were staring at a group of people who had been condemned to death. It was probably quite an accurate comparison but one aspect that surprised him was that he cared more about the fact that he was commanding these people on a near suicide mission than the fact that he would probably die as well. _This is what it is like to be a combat leader._

"Let me just clarify something here a minute" called out 'Magma'. "So providing we are not shot down by surface based defenses? And then providing that we don't emerge from the jump too far from the Baseships and get shot down by their CAP or too close and we just crash into them? Providing that the blast doesn't kill us and we manage jump away in time then we should make it, right?"

Something unusual happened at that point. 'Magma's rather dry wit had caused several lips to curl into what vaguely resembled smiles of amusement. They were all equal on this operation. None of them knew what to expect or even if they would be alive after this day and with that 'Stinger' nodded an acknowledgement to her cynical question. 'Magma' looked around the room. Each of them was now staring back at her waiting for her to say she wanted to get out of doing this. In her mind she could hear what they were all thinking. _Coward!_

"Oh frak it!" she suddenly uttered before turning back to 'Stinger'. "We're all probably going to get killed one way or another today so I might as well choose how it's going to happen."

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES WARDROOM  
PHASE III BRIEFING

"With the Baseships destroyed Hermes and Alexis will then make their move."

Captain Chloe Burmeister was half way through briefing the department heads of the plan. Once this briefing was complete they would be giving the same briefing to their own teams. Among them was Caleb Dytto who was going to be commanding the Alexis. During the course of the whole briefing he rarely looked at Burmeister instead choosing to keep his eyes glanced firmly on the table in front of them where a map of the Serena Valley had been laid out. To the casual observer it appeared that he was concentrating fully on the operation but as Bowman watched he knew it was more than that. For her part, Chloe had performed admirably during the briefing despite picking up on the cold emotion emanating from Dytto.

"The EM radiation from the nuclear detonations will confuse any DRADIS scans in the area and should allow Alexis to emerge from its jump inside the atmosphere undetected. Hermes will emerge from its jump in high orbit above the planet and deploy a small number of Raptors and Vipers that will start making their way down towards the colony. The goal is to appear that we are trying to rescue survivors of the holocaust. Now we can expect to encounter some residual Raiders who would have survived the destruction of their Baseships but with any luck they should be in total disarray and shouldn't prove too much of a problem."

"However!" interjected Adonia taking over this part of the briefing. "It won't be very long before they realize something is up and send reinforcements. We need to keep them as far away from the colony as possible in order to give the crew of the Alexis time to load up and jump away unnoticed and for that we are going to have to try every trick we can."

"When reinforcements arrive" continued Burmeister. "We will recall our Raptors and Vipers and make it look like we are aborting our operation and trying to escape. Once our air group is back onboard we will then begin jump preparations. Engineering is going to rig it so that our jump drive deliberately malfunctions and we emerge from the jump approximately three hundred thousand kilometers from the colony. To the Cylons it would appear we have suffered an FTL 'hiccup'. They will pursue us probably at sublight speeds and attempt to destroy us. That's where we have to fight them. We have to distract them there long enough for Alexis to be able to finish loading and then jump to the rendezvous point. Once Alexis is away Hermes recalls its air wing and jumps away." Burmeister stood up and looked around at the room before announcing, "That's it!"

"Thank you, Captain" said Bowman stepping forward to speak to them all. "Lieutenant Adrastos will begin moving the first truckload in two hours. I suggest we use this time to make sure the ship is as ready as it can ever be. Dismissed!"

Burmeister and the department heads filed out one by one leaving Bowman and Dytto alone. With the room now empty there just stood the two of them. The energy between them had changed in the passed few days and Bowman couldn't quite put his finger on it. There wasn't the hatred that once existed but there was some residual hostility left over.

"Something you want to say, Colonel?" asked Bowman.

Dytto's eyes turned to the side to look at Artimus Bowman standing beside him. "Hermes is going to take a lot of heat."

"Definitely" said Bowman nodding. "You think it's too bold?"

"I was thinking it was more along the lines of…_ballsy!"_ The two of them shared a momentary smirk at Dytto's blunt words. "Didn't think you had it in you to try something like this?"

"Mad times I suppose" said Bowman appropriately. "I can't tell you that I know for certain this is going to work. But I can tell you what will happen if we don't at least try."

Dytto solemnly nodded. "Well I better get the Alexis ready." As he said the words he suddenly turned to Bowman and laughed. "Well Commander, it looks like you got your way in the end. I'm off your ship." Bowman joined in with Dytto's amusement. A few weeks ago a statement like that would have been filled with poison and bile but was now quite lighthearted. Dytto turned away and began to walk to the hatch.

"Colonel!" called out Bowman. Dytto turned around to face Bowman who stood to attention and smartly saluted him. "Good luck, Colonel."

Almost stunned by the gesture Dytto returned the salute, perhaps the first respectful salute he had ever given Artimus Bowman, and said, "Good hunting Commander!"


	34. Chapter 34

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

The Scorpian sky was its usual post-bombardment murky grey obscuring the direct sunlight that filtered through scattered breaks in the cloud. The Caprimart distribution centre was a hive of activity as the civilian volunteer drivers along with the Marines checked over their individual articulated trucks that were involved in this operation. It had been just over an hour since the Cylon patrol had last passed overhead and now every second was vital. The one hour wait was necessary to allow the patrol to get enough distance away from the distribution centre before the Marines began to move the trucks. On the other hand however it meant that they had one less hour before the next one passed over.

Adrastos felt like a headless chicken as he ran up and down the rows of the assembled trucks checking that each one was loaded and secured properly with their crews in the cabs. As he passed the seventh truck on his way towards the first truck that he would be riding in the air began to grumble with the sound of powerful heavy duty engines growling into life. Each truck had been checked thoroughly that it was in working order but Adrastos felt that there was no harm in checking one more time. If one of the trucks was to go unserviceable now then they may have time to repair it using parts cannibalized from the remaining seven trucks that were too much work to make ready for the operation. By the time he approached his truck which sat at the far end of the yard nearest the exit all fifteen vehicles were sitting with idling engines like a pack of eager dogs waiting to be let loose.

Adrastos ran around to the passenger side of the lead truck and reached up for the door handle that sat a good six and a half feet from the ground. Pulling down on the handle with his left hand he opened the door before climbing up the small step protruding from the steel mud guard surrounding the front wheel. Inside the cabin he encountered Rory Blake sitting in the driver's seat looking somewhat amused by the rather awkward way that the Marine officer had climbed in.

"Welcome aboard Lieutenant" chuckled Rory.

"Thank you" replied Adrastos through gritted teeth knowing that it was more of an insult than a genuine welcome. "We ready to go?"

"Just say the word" said Rory.

"Then let's do it. We got just under five hours before the next patrol flies over."

With that Rory turned to the truck beside him and gave the driver the thumbs up indicating they would be moving out. The driver in the adjacent vehicle acknowledged the gesture and passed it on to the next. Rory put the truck into gear, noting that the gearbox felt quite stiff from having been stationary for so long, before applying the throttle and the truck jerked forward suddenly before beginning to move at a steady pace. Rory immediately began turning the large diameter steering wheel to the left until the front wheels were bringing the truck around towards the direction of the front gate. This was the first time Nester Adrastos had ever traveled in a truck like this. Looking out over the seemingly immense engine bay of the front engined truck he wondered how anyone could navigate these things properly especially through a narrow street or road.

The truck rumbled passed the security gate house and out onto the deserted road that ran through the industrial estate. It was quickly followed by the second and in the span of just a few minutes all fifteen trucks had trundled their way through the entrance leaving the truckyard relatively barren. Only a small contingent of the Marines remained at the distribution centre to secure it while the trucks were enroute to the stadium. The convoy arrived at the junction that led out of the industrial estate and Rory instinctively stopped to check for oncoming traffic.

"Um...I don't think anything's going to be coming this way?" laughed Adrastos.

"Right!" he said feeling foolish. "Old habits die hard."

Applying the throttle once more Rory guided the truck out of the junction and turned it to the right. Once the trailer had straightened up behind them Rory increased the speed down the empty country road. For Adrastos, it felt like the truck was hurtling down the road seemingly out of control but Rory was in his element as his mind settled into the fact that there were now no speed limits to hinder their progress. Every several minutes or so Adrastos leaned forward to look at the wing mirror hanging from the passenger door to check on the truck behind them. Every truck that was infront of another had to check on the progress of the following truck to ensure they weren't being left behind. Each truck had their own short range wireless sets but these were only to be used in the direst of emergencies for fear of the signal bouncing off the atmosphere and tipping off a Cylon listening post nearby.

As they traveled along the road that was now winding to the left an abandoned car appeared infront of them. It was stopped sideways half across the left side of the road and was riddled with bullet holes. Seeing that it was directly in their path Rory pulled the steering wheel sharply to the right and the truck swerved violently. Adrastos looked over at the left as he held on to the door handle and the dashboard to keep him upright. The car seemed to disappear under the front of the engine bay before there was suddenly a loud smashing sound. The corner of the trucks front bumper had clipped the back of the car sending it spinning around to the side and it rolled off the road until it hit a tree. The impact seemed to do nothing to the trucks progress and it continued on unabated.

"Yea I've done that before!" announced Rory proudly before sniggering to himself.

"No doubt" said Adrastos grinning. "Ok, keep on this road until we reach a T-junction and then take a right."

"Yes sir!" bellowed Rory in an almost mocking tone. They had twelve more miles to travel until they reached the stadium.

* * *

COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS  
BATTLESTAR HERMES STARBOARD HANGAR POD

The Alexis sat nestled inside the cavernous Hangar Pod that had cocooned the vessel like a protective mother bird taking her chick under her wing. The Alexis took up half the overall length of the magnetic Landing Deck and the fit was quite tight. Since it had docked with the Hermes the heavy liner had become a hive of activity as it was readied for its part of the mission. The main passenger cabin was being cleared, rather crudely, of its seating so that the absolute maximum space was available for the supplies from Scorpia. Some of the civilians had been drafted in for this job since the bulk of the crew of the Hermes were too busy trying to get as much of the Battlestar ready as possible for what lay ahead.

Caleb Dytto sat in the pilot's seat holding the flight manual in his hands and feeling like a first year Academy 'plebe' once more. He was competent that he could pilot the Alexis through space since the physics behind it were not unlike a transport shuttle or Raptor just on a much larger scale. Flying a spacecraft like the Alexis through an atmosphere was a whole other story however. Despite the aerodynamic shape of the vessel it was not a true aircraft having only limited atmospheric control surfaces and it would completely rely on its vertical thrusters for lift and to slow the vessel down during landing.

Since the Alexis would emerge from its jump inside the atmosphere of Scorpia Caleb could skip passed the whole section regarding the dangerous act of reentry but this had its own problems. The aero-braking that comes from reentering an atmosphere helps control the rate of descent but this wasn't going to be a factor during this mission. The Alexis would simply 'appear' in mid air and begin falling very quickly. This would put extra strain on the vertical thrusters which would be desperately trying to control the rate of descent. The higher up in the atmosphere the Alexis will emerge the more time it has to slow its descent however this would also increase the risk of detection by the orbital Cylon DRADIS if the mission to destroy the Basestars failed.

Reading through the manual Caleb read the Chapter regarding landing for what seemed like the third time in half an hour. One line stood out for him; _If the liner is descending at its terminal velocity then the vertical thrusters need at least forty thousand feet to adequately slow the vessel down for a controlled and safe landing._

Although the best effort was being made to calculate the jump there was always the prospect of navigational area creeping in and screwing everything up. They could emerge from the jump in high orbit or inside a mountain! Even the best FTL computer in the Twelve Colonies couldn't guarantee that the Alexis would hit its aim point of sixty thousand feet.

With that in mind Caleb turned to the chapter half way towards the back of the manual entitled 'Emergency Procedures'.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK

Three Raptors sat at the far end of the Hangar Deck. Chief Imlay had referred to these as the 'perfect three' since he had checked them over so many times that he was now convinced that there was nothing wrong with them whatsoever. He had joked to Specialist Gorseinon that he had even made sure the seats didn't squeak when sat in. They had to be in perfect working order for these were the Raptors that had been tasked to destroy the Baseships in orbit of Scorpia. Chief Imlay had given them his personal attention making sure that they had the best components that were available from the damaged Raptors that were being used for scrap. This included an additional FTL navigation computer rigged to each of them to double their processing power. This would be essential for calculating the short range jump from Scorpia to the Baseships as well as escaping quickly when the nukes hit. The arrangement was somewhat untidy, the additional computer being hardwired with a web of wires to the main one and secured via adhesive tape to the floor of the cabin, but it was effective and working properly - at least in tests.

'Stinger' walked slowly around Raptor Six-One-Seven with his fingertips gently caressing the metal and his eyes scanning the hull for the slightest sign of imperfection. It was a pre-flight routine he had done countless times in his career and the whole thing had become automatic to him. He kneeled down low and looked around the landing skids checking for leaks or excessive wear and tear. 'Stinger' had total faith in the Deck Gang but all pilots were responsible for their spacecraft once it left the Hangar Deck and therefore such pre-flight checks were both a matter of safety and insurance.

Chief Imlay watched 'Stinger' from across the Hangar Deck. Although there was plenty for his team to do he felt it was necessary to keep an eye on the pre-flight checks going on around 'the perfect three'. Under any other circumstances it would have been a matter of pride for him not to have a complaint but something was different this time. The six flightcrew who were flying these Raptors during the mission had walked onto the Hangar Deck with a distinctive aura surrounding them. Everyone had noticed it and seemed to be giving them a wide berth as if afraid that it was somehow contagious. The aura had the stench of death. There were few who believed that their part in the operation was survivable to say nothing of achieving their goal of destroying three Baseships. The knuckledraggers and pilots who were buzzing around the Hangar Deck seemed to fall silent when they were around as if paying their respects to people who were still alive.

"Excuse me, Chief!" A gentle feminine voice from behind him tore Chief Imlay's gaze away from the Raptors. He turned to the right to find Melissa 'Aurora' Saunders standing beside him. "Have you seen the CAG?"

"Uh, he's just down there Lieutenant" said Imlay pointing at 'Stinger'. Melissa thanked him and began to make her way across the deck watched by Imlay. He couldn't believe that just three weeks ago she was a civilian refugee, a survivor of the disgraceful conduct of the crew of the Battlestar Pegasus. She now looked every bit the Colonial Warrior even if her military drill still had much to be desired.

As Melissa walked upto 'Stinger' she took a moment to compose herself. She swallowed the apprehension she had developed whilst walking down to confront her senior officer and spoke up, "Excuse me, sir."

"What is it 'Aurora'?" asked 'Stinger' as he was checking the starboard engine exhaust for any sign of obstruction.

"Sir, about the scheduling for the operation. I've noticed that I haven't been assigned a flight duty."

"That's correct" said 'Stinger' as he moved to the port engine exhaust. "You're still training. You're of more use to the ship by staying on the Hangar Deck with the Deck Gang and helping out here with any damaged ships that come in."

"But surely the more ships out there fighting the Cylons the better chance of this thing succeeding?" protested Melissa in a way that indicated to 'Stinger' that she had rehearsed it vigorously before coming to see him.

For the first time since she had approached him 'Stinger' stopped carring out his checks and looked at her. The two of them locked eyes and Melissa felt like she was being put on the spot. At that moment 'Walleye' had appeared behind 'Stinger' from inside the Raptor and stood quietly listening into what was going on.

"Do you want to know the truth?" asked 'Stinger'. Melissa was unsure whether he wanted an answer from her or not but she knew he was going to give her one. "In all likelihood more ships would just mean more targets for the Cylons to destroy. I know as CAG I should probably give you some rousing speech for you to go get 'em but I just..." 'Stinger' looked away as if searching for the words. They were buried rather deeply within his heart and no matter how hard he tried to retrieve them he could only scratch the surface of the shell that had formed inside him. It was a shell he had forced upon himself because it was the only way he could bring himself to give out the orders to his air wing and especially to those flying the 'perfect three'. "Just stay on the deck with the Chief." His words were more in a pleading fashion than an order as if he were trying to keep her safe.

Melissa suddenly felt a wave of guilt flow over her for pushing for an answer from him. She still had a desire to go on the mission but it was now subdued and she rather subserviently nodded before walking away. 'Stinger' sensed 'Walleye's presence as the two of them noticed that almost every eye on the deck was looking at them with a strong sense of pity for them.

"They think we're going to die!" uttered 'Walleye' to 'Stinger' as if he had just come to some ground shattering revelation.

"Don't you?" asked 'Stinger'.

"I guess so" said 'Walleye'. "But nobody is safe on this one. We're all going in."

"Yea but we're the ones with nukes strapped to our ass!"

"What's the matter boss?" asked 'Walleye' in a suddenly playful sort of way. "You want to live forever or something?"

The joke had broken the mood as 'Stinger' turned to his ECMO and replied, "It would be nice."

The truth was 'Stinger' had accepted that he may not come back from this one. That wasn't bothering him. What bothered him was the fact that he was giving the orders out to the pilots of the air wing. Even though he was simply relaying them from Bowman he still felt responsible for anything that may happen. He began to think he really wasn't cut out for the job of CAG. He was too emotionally involved with his people.

* * *

THE SERENA VALLEY  
NORTHER TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPED SCORPIA

The silent and contaminated air that encompassed the small town of Pikeston since the day the colony fell to the Cylons was suddenly disturbed by a low rumble. The rumble grew louder and louder as it neared the small township. The trucks were forced slowed down as they entered the norrower streets of the town. The countryside roads leading into Pikeston were quite clear of abandoned cars and this allowed the drivers to maintain a quick pace across them. This was fortunate since they were at their most exposed on these roads. Speed was always going to be the key to success during this operation.

Adrastos seemed to brace himself up as the truck he was riding in at the front of the convoy trundled passed a dust covered road sign upon which the words 'Welcome to Pikeston' could just be made out. Rory Blake turned the large diameter steering wheel around to the left and began to apply the brakes thus slowing the truck as it rounded a bend that took it straight into the centre of town. It was in this town that D'Anna Biers had been killed and to return here had reignited the guilt he had felt regarding her death. She was supposed to be under his protection during the reconnaissance mission and he felt like he had failed her. Part of him thought it was ridiculous to think in such a way since in truth there was little he could have done to prevent what had happened but his emotions demanded he feel guilty anyway.

Rory was forced to slow down to a virtual snail's pace as he maneuvered the truck around several parked cars along the left hand side of the road. Once he had passed the first one and had enough clearance on either he applied the accelerator, jerking the truck forwards. The immense vehicle hissed and growled as it seemed to yank its trailer behind it. Adrastos looked in the passenger side rear view mirror to check on the progress of the truck behind them.

"Slow it down!" he suddenly bellowed to Rory gesturing downward with his left hand. Adrastos had seen that the driver in the truck behind them was being exceptionally cautious as he made his way passed the parked cars and with Rory's increased speed there was a widening rift emerging between the two articulated trucks.

"Oh for frak sake" grumbled Rory as he observed the driver behind them in his own driver's side mirror. Rory let his foot off the accelerator and his truck began to coast forward with decreasing speed. The truck behind them soon cleared the parked cars and began to surge towards them.

"Alright he's through!" said Adrastos who was still keeping his eyes on the passenger side mirror. "But spare the horses for a minute in case anyone else has the same trouble." Rory just nodded somewhat impatiently as the truck behind them caught up and they seemed to crawl through the ghost town. As the trucks continued onward it was not long before they reached the shop where Adrastos had left D'Anna's body sprawled up on a sofa. He had completely forgotten about the destroyed Centurion that lay strewn across the nearby alleyway, its red visual sensor now dark as its dead 'eye' watched the trucks pass the opposite end of the narrow side street. Adrastos peered through the broken shop window in a vain effort to see if D'Anna was still there in her resting place or if the Cylons had carted her body off to be incinerated. Looking between the shards of glass protruding from the window frame he couldn't make out if she was there or not. It was simply too dark and dusty inside.

"See anything you like?" joked Rory who had noticed that the shop window seemed to have the Marine Lieutenant's complete attention.

"Not exactly" uttered Adrastos as he returned to facing forwards now that the shop was out of view.

The convoy reached the end of town and Rory turned the truck onto yet another country road that linked Pikeston up to the nearby town of Enzo. With a long line of trucks in close formation behind them Rory opened the throttle once more to make up for the time lost in Pikeston. Like an enormous snake the convoy slithered onto the adjoining road and began to hurtle onwards in a southerly direction towards the stadium.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

A diagram of the Battlestar Hermes laid across the Operations Desk as Captain Chloe Burmeister briefed Bowman on the preparations that had been carried out thus far. She had gone to the Commander with a list of recommendations as long as her arm to better prepare the Battlestar for going into combat. These recommendations all took into account the damage that the ship had thus far sustained.

Where the armour was now weakest the adjacent section was evacuated and sealed up. Then the atmosphere was drained out so that if the hull in that section was breached by enemy weapons fire then the resulting explosive decompression would be minimal. Removing whatever personnel, equipment or supplies that were in that compartment only served to worsen the already crowded space aboard the ship but it had to be done. The result was that several corridors were now littered with supply boxes and equipment. In some cases wall mounted computer components were ripped from their moldings within these high risk sections and left to lie on the corridor floor with their wires hanging from them.

To help improve the Battlestar's ability to sustain her firepower in battle, efforts were being made to repair several turrets that had been damaged. Like most Battlestars the Hermes bristled with twin barrel kinetic energy cannons. The problem for the Hermes was that much of its weapons had already been damaged and a single hit on a surviving turret could take out two cannons. Therefore Burmeister recommended that one cannon be removed from as many of the surviving turrets as possible and fitted to the repaired turrets. Thankfully the many parts aboard Hermes were designed to be interchangeable with other vessels in the field and this made the work easier. Although the actual firepower of the ship remained unchanged the number of operational turrets had been increased to eighty-five per cent of its peacetime number.

All these alterations, while necessary, served to reinforce the fact that the Hermes was not the proud warship it once was. It could no longer rely on brute force and the support of the Colonial Fleet to win battles. It was going to have to rely on cunning and outsmarting the enemy.

Burmeister was mid sentence regarding repair work the 'snipes' down in engineering had been working on when Major Adonia entered the CIC having just returned from the sickbay. He had in his hand a red clipboard with a document on the front from Dr. James Deveroux. Bowman knew what it was since he had asked the Major to retrieve it personally from their Chief Medical Officer.

Adonia stood beside Bowman and Burmeister before looking around to make sure that no one was in earshot. These three people, each from different backgrounds, shared one secret; they were the only ones aboard who were aware of the evolution of the Cylons from machines to organic beings. The only others were Adrastos and Callisto but they were on Scorpia.

"Here is the autopsy report" said Adonia in a low tone as he handed Bowman the clipboard.

"Anything?" asked the Commander.

"No! According to Deveroux there was nothing unusual about the body that we brought back from the Hellenic Traveler. Of course, he said that it would help if he knew what he was looking for" explained Adonia.

Bowman looked up from the chart, "You didn't say anything did you?"

"No!" replied Adonia firmly. "Of course not, sir."

"Good!" said Bowman whose eyes returned to the report on the clipboard.

"Sir?" asked Burmeister. "Are you implying that we can't trust Deveroux?"

"I'm not saying that at all, Captain" said Bowman who was reading over the notes on the piece of paper as if he were about to find something on there that the Doctor had missed. "What I am saying is that we have to be careful who we divulge this information to. I don't need to explain to you what would happen if it became public knowledge that the Cylons either look like us or have humans working for them. Or both!"

"Of course, sir" acknowledged Burmeister who suddenly had images of rioting in the overcrowded 'slum' because one person claimed another was a Cylon.

Finally convinced that the report could not help him in his search for uncovering possible Cylon infiltrators aboard his ship he handed the clipboard back to Adonia and asked, "What about our Marines guarding the civilians? Have they reported anything?"

"No sir" replied Adonia who was as equally frustrated as his Commander on this particular subject. Ever since he had heard from D'Anna Biers that there were human-Cylons he had found that sleeping comfortably as well as suffering from a mild dose of paranoia had become problems he had to contend with on a daily basis. "We've passed around pictures of the two women on the premise that they are the same person and are mentally ill. We've warned people not be approach them if they are seen anywhere on the ship and report it to security. So far nothing."

"Ok" said Bowman. "Keep trying!"

"Commander!" Chief Petty Officer Durand called out from the communications console. Bowman looked up in response to Durand. "Sir, message from the Hangar Deck. The Raptors are ready for departure."

"Very good" said Bowman handing the clipboard to Burmeister who then returned to her station. "Clear them for departure!"

"Yes sir" replied Durand who immediately began relaying the order.

Bowman looked up at the confusing readings from the DRADIS screen, an effect of being in the Erebus Belt. One by one the three Raptors, depicted as small dots appearing from the centre of the screen, departed the vessel and assumed a holding pattern around the Battlestar.

"Put me through to them!" said Bowman as he picked up the handset from the Operations Desk. "Raptors! This is Actual." There was a brief pause as he lowered his tone before continuing. Everyone in the CIC listened in as he spoke again. "I can't begin to imagine what's going through your minds as you are about to undertake this…this operation. The mission you are about to undertake is more than an attack upon the enemy that has savaged our worlds. This operation may determine our very survival. Now I'm not a religious man, as I'm sure you're all aware, but if there is a grand plan laid out for us by a higher power then I know that the people assembled here in this place and at this time are the right people. My confidence in each of you is unshakeable. And with that in mind all I have left to say is…start the clock and good hunting! Actual out."

Bowman hung up the handset on the Operations Desk as a digital clock appeared in the corner of every screen and began counting down from one hour.

* * *

One by one the three Raptors disappeared in a brilliant flash of light as their FTL drives engaged and took them to Scorpia in less than a second. They had an hour to find their respective Baseships because when the clock reached zero they had to attack.

The hopes of five thousand people aboard the Hermes now lay in six individuals on an apparent suicide mission.


	35. Chapter 35

CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA  
THE NORTHERN POLE  
59 MINUTES 12 SECONDS REMAINING

The Raptor burst into the atmosphere as it emerged from its FTL jump at an altitude of fifty-seven thousand feet. The smooth ride of space was immediately replaced by heavy buffeting and both 'Stinger' and 'Walleye' felt their harnesses violently tugging them back into their seats as their bodies tried to force their way in every direction. 'Stinger' raised the nose of the descending Raptor and leveled it out which went some way to smoothen the ride but the turbulent air still made for a relatively uncomfortable ride.

"Report!" called out 'Stinger' whose heart was beating a little faster than usual.

"We are approximately five miles north of our aim point! That's not bad" said 'Walleye' reading the magnetic information on his screen that he was using to determine their location on the planet. Because the orbital navigational satellites had all been destroyed 'Walleye' had to get their position by identifying the magnetic strength of the northern pole in their present location. It would be a rough estimate but it was enough.

"Five miles!" blurted out 'Stinger' horror stricken. "That's all very well jumping to Scorpia but what about when we attack the Baseships?"

"Don't worry about it" pleaded 'Walleye'. We will have the second FTL computer online for that. Then we could jump into a flea's ass!"

"Let's just hope it don't come to that then shall we?" said 'Stinger' only mildly amused. "I'm putting us on the deck. We're still pretty high and for all we know there's a Cylon SAM battery down there!"

The nose of the Raptor dipped and was once again in a steep descent towards the surface. Breaking through the dense cloud base that sat at just over three thousand feet revealed a marble blue ocean below. Several white blocks of ice varying in size, some the size of a small house, bobbed in the water having broken off from the main ice pack during the nuclear bombardment.

'Stinger' nudged the control column back and the forward ventral thrusters fired to lift the nose up and shallow out the descent. White vortices streamed from the Raptor's wingtips as the warm hull cut sharply through the cold air. Leveling off at around five hundred feet the Raptor continued to buffet in the denser air at the lower altitude. Although it was designed for atmospheric flight the Colonial Raptor is more accustomed to flight through the vacuum of space.

On the horizon ahead of them was a long white line that seemed to be getting larger the closer they got to it. This was the northern ice cap of the colony of Scorpia. It offered numerous places to try to hide as the Cylon Baseship passes over head thus allowing them to get a fix on its location ready to jump and attack with their nuke.

"Ok" said 'Stinger'. "Find us that Baseship!"

* * *

UNIVERSITY OF SCORPIA SCHOOL OF ATHLETICS AND SPORT  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES

The column of trucks hissed and growled as they drove out onto the athletics field where in just over an hour the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis would be landing to pick up the supplies. The trucks had assembled on the running track that ran around the circumference of the field. As soon as their wheels stopped the Marines burst into action to secure the site while the civilian volunteers began to unload their cargoes.

Adrastos jumped from the passenger side of Rory's truck, landing heavily on the red asphalt. Pulling his rifle around from his shoulder he ran to the third truck along the way just as Gunnery Sergeant Callisto was leaping from the cabin.

"Callisto!" he called out through his respirator. Callisto acknowledged his senior officer and rushed towards him to receive his orders. "The commentator's box is where we are going to establish our CP. Take Myers and the transponder with you!"

"Yes sir! Myers!" barked Callisto as he went in search of Private Myers who was carrying the transponder on his back. Finding him three more trucks down the line Callisto tugged on his left arm and he seemed to yank the young Marine towards the commentator's box which sat high over the athletic field providing excellent all round visibility.

Adrastos ran back to the truck he had arrived in just as Rory Blake was opening the trailer doors to reveal three dirt stained yellow forklift trucks tucked away inside. Rory climbed in the back and reached for a pair of ramps which he then began to hand to Adrastos.

"Come on! Help with these!" bellowed Adrastos at two civilians standing nearby who seemed to be lost in the rush of events that was taking place. The two civilians darted over and took hold of the ramps. The two ramps were quickly placed on the lip of the trailer and they locked firmly into place.

With Adrastos acting looking on, Rory and the two civilians climbed into the seats on the forklift trucks and began to start their electric motors. Rory had driven these little vehicles many times during his career in the road logistics business but the other two had never even sat in one before except for a quick lesson they had all received back at the distribution centre.

With the forklift's electric motor humming Rory turned the steering wheel to the left as far as it could go. The small wheels at the front swiveled through ninety degrees and the forklift seemed to turn on the spot before trundling its way down the ramps.

"Ok!" announced Adrastos. "Mr. Blake, unload the next vehicle!" Rory nodded and guided the little forklift toward the second truck in the line up. Adrastos then turned to the civilian on the second forklift. "You, take the third truck along. When you're done keep moving along the line. Let's go! Come on!" The rather nervous civilian turned the steering wheel to the left and began to make his way towards the rear of the trailer. Cautiously, he guided the forklift onto the two ramps and after Adrastos had ensured him both front wheels were safely on he applied the throttle and the forklift whirred loudly down onto the asphalt. This left just one forklift inside the trailer. "Ok, you unload this trailer. Same goes for you, once you're done just keep moving on to the next one. Ok?"

"Y-yes!" stuttered the nervous young man who began to maneuver the forklift inside the confined space of the trailer in order to pick up the first pallet beside him.

Adrastos left the young man to get on with it and went to inspect the progress of the Marines securing the site. As he stepped back from the truck he could see that Rory Blake was already darting down the ramps of the second truck with a pallet and was packing it on the grass beside the track. Within seconds he was turning the little forklift around and zooming back up into the trailer for the next one.

Standing clear of the trucks he looked up at the downward sloping roof covering the spectator stands that ran along the entire periphery of the stadium. Teams of two Marines were positioning themselves along the roof to establish Observation Posts, OPs in military parlance, at six different locations. Staying down low to keep themselves covered the high placed roof offered ideal visibility for several miles. The only limiting factor was low cloud, humidity and the human eye.

Adrastos then looked to the right at the commentator's box which sat perched just higher than the stands. He could clearly make out Callisto and Myers making their way inside to establish what was effectively going to be a make-shift air traffic control tower.

There was suddenly a loud crashing sound from behind him. Adrastos turned round quickly to see what had caused the commotion. To his horror he saw that the forklift truck that had been left to unload the first truck was lying on its side on the ground. Rory, Private Peterson and two other civilians went rushing over. Adrastos quickly followed them. As he reached the trailer it didn't take long for him to figure out what had happened. The inexperienced young driver had misjudged boarding the ramps to bring his first pallet down from inside the trailer. The wheels had gone between the ramps and the forklift carrying its pallet fell over. As it did so the young driver had fallen out and the one ton forklift landed on top of his chest crushing his rib cage which in turn punctured his lungs. Adrastos could do little except watch as the young man drowned on his own blood.

"Oh frak!" uttered Adrastos into his respirator. His military logic immediately replaced his emotional state. His mind overruled his heart. Yes it was sad that this man had died in a tragic accident but the truth was it changed little regarding the overall mission. Time was still their immediate enemy and they had to keep unloading the trucks. "Alright, Blake!" Rory didn't hear him. "Blake!" barked Adrastos as loud as any drill sergeant ever could. Rory pulled his eyes away from the young man's lifeless face and looked at the Lieutenant. "Get that other forklift over here. We need to lift this one back onto its wheels to continue the unloading. Peterson, when it's lifted off him I want you to move the body aside."

"Yes sir!" replied Peterson.

Adrastos then turned to the two civilians standing next to Peterson. "You two are going to take over unloading this truck. One of you drives while the other acts as a safety marshal. Let's get going, come on!"

Rory appeared to the right of them as he positioned the forks of the little truck underneath the toppled over forklift being careful not to prod the young man's body. Raising them upwards the forklift cleared the body and Peterson reached in and tugged on his blood soaked clothes. Both Adrastos and Peterson dragged the young man aside and he was placed rather carefully onto a row of trackside seats. Adrastos folded the young man's hands across his chest in a respectful sort of way before uttering softly, "Sorry kid." He then stood up and left him there. There was of course no point in bringing him aboard the Alexis when it landed and the silent, empty stadium where he died was going to have to be his tomb until Cylons or the natural elements removed what was left.

With all the forklifts working again it was not long before the first three trucks were emptied and they continued on down the line to empty the next group of three. Now that the unloading process had begun to move more fluidly Adrastos ran up the stairwell adjacent to the commentator's box towards Callisto's CP.

He burst through the door, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to catch his breath, and found Myers on the floor with the transponder checking that it was working properly. Callisto stood with his rifle watching over what was happening below. He couldn't believe how quickly things were moving now compared to the previous plan of using Raptors to haul up the supplies and for the first time it felt like this plan could work although even he had to admit that it was still early on.

"SITREP?" asked Adrastos.

"We're good here, sir" said Callisto. "Our OPs have been established. No enemy contacts as of yet."

"Transponder is operating on receive only, sir" added Myers.

"Very good" said Adrastos checking his watch. "But we're still behind schedule. We took too long getting here." Adrastos looked down at the teams unloading the trucks and saw that eight of them were now empty. It was a damn fine effort on their part but he wondered if it was going to be enough. His watch showed that they now had fifty two minutes before the attacks on the Baseships and the Alexis jumping in. They were looking at another fifteen minutes of unloading and then around thirty minutes back to the Caprimart distribution centre. Then there was another ten to twenty minutes loading up the next group followed by another thirty minutes back here. The longer they were on the second trip the longer the Alexis would have to remain on the ground and thus the more vulnerable it was. "Ok Gunnery Sergeant, keep everything in order until we get back."

"Don't I always, sir?" joked Callisto who then respectfully saluted his senior officer. Adrastos returned the gesture before turning around and making his way back down the stairwell towards the track. As he reached the trucks he saw that Rory and his colleagues were beginning to unload the last three vehicles with increased confidence and speed. Rory in particular seemed to be throwing the pallets out of the trailers as if the forklift was an extension of his own rather burly arms.

Waiting quite impatiently, Adrastos was relieved to hear Rory bellow at the top of his lungs, "That's the last of it!" as he maneuvered the little forklift and its pallet out of the last trailer and onto the ground.

"Alright!" yelled Adrastos to the civilians and the Marines who would be going with him back to the Caprimart distribution centre. "lock 'em back up and let's move out!"

There quickly followed what appeared to be a mad rush as they locked the now empty trailers and clambered back into the trucks. Once again Adrastos found himself sitting beside Rory who aggressively rammed his foot down onto the throttle to move the powerful truck forward. Like a herd of startled animals the trucks began to move and headed back towards the entrance watched over by Callisto and his OP teams who were securing the site and the supplies already deposited.

As the trucks made their way back out onto the road Adrastos looked at his watch and felt as though he were running late for an important meeting. There was now forty two minutes and thirty one seconds remaining.

* * *

THE JUNGLE OF DEMETER  
NEAR THE EQUATOR OF SCORPIA  
32 MINUTES 55 SECONDS REMAINING

The Jungle of Demeter, named after the Goddess of fertility, is the largest of all of Scorpia's jungles stemming half a continent. It is a misty and murky place that is no friend to man. It swarms with snakes and spiders all of which carry numerous ways to kill a human being. It was this thought that went through 'Magma's mind as her Raptor cruised overhead just several feet above the jungle canopy.

Looking out from the cockpit she couldn't help but notice that the once bright green jungle she had seen in numerous photographs and television shows had darkened considerably. At first she thought it was simply because she had never seen it with her own eyes and that this was how it really looked but she soon came to realize that the jungle was in fact dieing. The poisonous clouds emanating from the destruction of numerous towns and cities across the planet was poisoning the rich wildlife. Several migratory bird species as well as small ground animals had already perished since the bombing. They spent their last days totally oblivious to the fact that every breath was killing them. In a richly intertwined environment such as that of a jungle the death of one species adversely affects the others. The survivors must learn to adapt to the new life or they will perish – much like the crew and civilians of the Battlestar Hermes.

"We're coming up to thirty minutes. Anything?" asked 'Magma' after she had tore her gaze away from the dieing vegetation.

"Only what's left of the shipyards and that aint much" said 'Fuzz' who was working the Ultraviolet telescope mounted on the top of the Raptor. The UV telescope works by detecting UV radiation emanating from the sun. When a ship passes over head it interrupts this radiation and appears as a black hole on the readout. So far 'Fuzz' had only been able to detect the charred remains of the Scorpion Fleet Shipyards and the Battlestars that were docked there.

'Magma' sighed her frustration. "Are they sure this is where the Baseship was supposed to be?"

"Captain Burmeister said this was her best guess but she was going on second hand information" explained 'Fuzz'. "Just passive readings our Raptor flights got when making the supply runs to the ground team."

"So there could be fifty Baseships up there for all we know?" snarled 'Magma'.

"Yep!" said 'Fuzz'. "Or there could just be-. Wait one!" One of 'Fuzz's readouts had started beeping. He accessed his console to investigate.

"What?" asked 'Magma'. "What is it? Is it the Baseship? 'Fuzz'?"

"Oh Gods!" gasped 'Fuzz' before screaming, "SAM! Break left!"

'Magma's heart seemed to jolt violently as the adrenalin burst through her body. Without hesitation she yanked the controls to the left and banked the Raptor into a hard left turn. The port wing dipped through eighty degrees and the nose began to swing around. As the Raptor continued to turn 'Magma' looked out and saw a thin grey smoke trail rising up from the jungle. It rose above the Raptor's height and began to arch back down towards them.

"I see it!" said 'Magma'.

"I'm trying to jam the seeker!" shot 'Fuzz' who was working hard on his control panel.

'Magma' kept the Raptor turning until it was pointing in the direction of the missile that was still arching above her. Keeping the Raptor level she applied full throttle and the little craft roared forward with its engines glowing hot. Her aim was to get the Raptor under the arch left by the missile before it could rain down on top of them. If she timed it just right then the missile wouldn't be able to follow them through the turn due to the low latitude and crash into the ground. If she timed it wrong then the missile would impact on their roof.

The Raptor roared over the jungle below causing the trees to shake violently. Keeping her eyes on the missile that was now passing over them 'Magma' knew she had judged this wrong. The missile's arch was big enough for it to follow them through. Knowing she had only milliseconds to react she pulled the nose of the Raptor upwards and aimed for the top of the arching smoke trail. This forced the missile to try and follow her. It couldn't. It was beyond its atmospheric tolerances and coupled with the jamming from 'Fuzz's ECM equipment the seeker head lost the Raptor and shot downward. It disappeared beneath the jungle canopy where it exploded sending up a grey and white plume of smoke.

"Frak! Where did that come from?" screeched 'Magma' as she tilted the nose down and began a descent back to tree top level.

"I've got two DRADIS searches emanating from the north and the east. I'm trying to jam them but they're switching frequencies too damn fast!"

"We got to jump away!" said 'Magma'.

"What!" gasped 'Fuzz' at what seemed like yet another act of cowardice from the most unpopular pilot aboard the Hermes. "We can't abandon the mission!"

"We're not going to" explained 'Magma' as the Raptor leveled out once more. "Fire up the second FTL computer. It could plot us a jump to take us a few hundred miles from here."

"Right!" said 'Fuzz' who could barely believe his ears that it was 'Magma', of all people, planning this dangerous maneuver. He switched on the second computer as his console beeped loudly once more as a second missile rose into the air. "I'm powering it up now. FTL is spooling." The seconds seemed to become hours as the two hardwired FTL computers planned the jump. 'Magma' had spotted the second trail as it rose in the air and began to surge towards it in an effort to repeat the maneuver that had saved them the first time. To her horror however a third missile streaked upwards shortly behind it. Even if she could repeat the dodging maneuver with the second one the third missile would undoubtedly hit them. "Ok! Jumping!"

The Raptor flashed away leaving the two missiles to streak through the empty space where once it had been only to fall harmlessly into the ground below.

* * *

'Magma' and 'Fuzz's Raptor reappeared over five hundred miles away. It was at an altitude of eight one thousand feet and was still climbing. Looking out of the cockpit 'Magma' could see the horizon was beginning to curve as they approached the edge of space. This was of course a bad thing since they were nearing the 'hard deck' that was the known Cylon orbital DRADIS.

"Ok I'm taking us back down" said 'Magma' who felt as though she were on some crazy rollercoaster ride that was going up and down and then back up again. As she began her descent she heard 'Fuzz' utter, "My Gods!"

"What is it?" asked 'Magma' expecting more bad news.

'Fuzz' sat back in his chair in total disbelief at what he was seeing on the UV telescope readout. There on the screen was the perfect outline of a Cylon Baseship as it sat comfortably in an equatorial orbit. They had found it.

* * *

SEA OF PONTOS  
SOUTHERN HEMISPHERE  
23 MINUTES 41 SECONDS REMAINING

The Raptor calmly cruised above the ocean being held in the air by its thrusters. In contrast to 'Magma' and 'Fuzz', 'Sundried' and his ECMO, 'Decca', had found their Baseship relatively easily and unmolested. The geosynchronous orbit that the Baseship was in meant that the distance it operated from the surface of the planet varied. At the moment it was at its closest and was compensating for the absence of the other two Baseships which were both on the opposite side of the planet.

There was little for the two of them to do now except keep stalking their prey until the time was right for them to attack.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES  
THE EREBUS BELT  
18 MINUTES 20 SECONDS REMAINING

Slowly and silently the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis slipped out of the protective cover of the Hermes' Starboard Hangar Pod. The large fishlike vessel, under the control of Colonel Caleb Dytto, continued on under the watchful eyes of a Raptor crew assisting in its departure.

Standing in the CIC Bowman could do little except listen to the wireless chatter between the Alexis and the Raptor. The nervousness in Dytto's voice was evident as it was seemingly spat through the garbly speakers above Bowman's head. He looked over at Adonia who stood on the opposite side of the Operations Desk. Adonia seemed extremely agitated as Alexis left the Hangar Deck. It was the waiting that was always the worst part of any operation. To help take his mind off things Bowman issued him an order to have the ship go to Condition One once the Alexis was clear.

"Uh, yes of course, sir" stuttered Adonia. This did little to help the Major's nerves and looking at him Bowman suspected there was more to it than simple pre-combat nerves.

"Something else Major?" asked Bowman. The question had opened a door to Adonia, one that would probably have stayed shut otherwise. He composed himself and stood upright before asking, "Sir, request permission to join our Viper squadrons?"

"You're not the CAG anymore, Major" said Bowman firmly. "You're my XO."

"Sir, respectfully, I feel my place is with the air wing. With 'Stinger' already on mission our pilots are going to need someone to command them in battle." Adonia didn't want to say what they were all thinking but merely hinted at the fact that in all likelihood 'Stinger' already was or soon would be dead.

"You could command them just as well from here" explained Bowman.

Adonia paused momentarily as he thought how best to reach his Commanding Officer. "Sir, you were a CAG once. If it were you in my place what would you do?"

Bowman had always thought that these types of questions were unfair but nevertheless he had to agree that if the tables were reversed he would probably be doing the same. With that in mind he made a decision.

"Very well, _'Griffon'_" said Bowman. "Report to the Hangar Deck."

"Yes sir!" said Adonia saluting. "Thank you, sir!"

Bowman watched as Adonia walked out of the CIC. Although he was in a room filled with busy people he suddenly felt quite alone standing at the Operations Desk watching the clock ticking down to zero.

Sixteen minutes went by. Fifteen. Each minute seemed to drag terribly.

Fourteen. The Alexis was clear and Bowman ordered the ship to Condition One.

Thirteen.

Twelve.

Eleven.

For the next ten minutes Bowman felt more helpless than he had ever done in his life. The events he found himself caught up in seemed so far beyond his control that it was as if he would never again command his own destiny.

* * *

CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA  
0 MINUTES 55 SECONDS REMAINING

All across the planet the three Raptors had stalked their targets like a pack of wolves circling an unprotected flock of lambs waiting for the signal to attack. Of course the Cylon Baseships were no baby lambs. They had teeth of their own and it was going to take all the cunning of the human mind to pull off this feat. Attacking the Baseships like this was the metaphorical equivalent of sticking a knife in someone's back. Their three crews knew what was being asked of them and as the clock counted down its last few seconds they each made their peace with the universe before making that one move that would decide their fate.

The clock reached zero and three Raptors jumped simultaneously from the planet into orbit.

* * *

'MAGMA' & 'FUZZ'

The Raptor emerged from the jump one mile from the central axis of the Baseship. 'Magma' had mentally prepared herself for this moment. In her mind she was no longer human. For someone such as her who had such a strong sense of survival it was an alien experience. Her heart had become as metal as it hardened to protect herself from the fear and apprehension that was now buried down inside her. In a way she had become the enemy she had once feared so much that she had actually murdered her first ECMO in order to return to the safety of the Hermes. She had all but blocked out the memory of that day and as she stared at the Baseship ahead of her she saw her own mortality and somehow knew that it was nothing to fear.

The immense Cylon Baseship dwarfed the tiny Raptor as it continued to slowly rotate its way through its orbit. 'Magma' spotted the hangar bay door that was the bull's eye and threw her Raptor into full burn, rushing towards them. The Cylon's reaction was swift. Several Raiders were already popping out from their sacks in the long arms of the Baseship in an effort to intercept the Raptor but it was too late.

The missile streaked from underneath the Raptor's wing and impacted just passed the now closing doors of the hangar bay. 'Magma' didn't even try to turn away. There was no point. They had got too close in their efforts to get the missile into the bull's eye. Both 'Magma' and 'Fuzz' were immersed in the white flash of the nuclear blast.

They felt nothing!

* * *

'STINGER' & 'WALLEYE'

'Stinger's Raptor emerged from the jump approximately four hundred meters away but above the armoured upper half of the Baseship. This was bad! With no clear shot the Raptor was going to have to maneuver into position and the Cylon's radiological alarms were no doubt screaming their arrival.

'Stinger' threw the Raptor around and began a hell bent dive for the hangar bay doors. As they hugged the hull along the central axis the Raiders began swooping down like startled bats. 'Stinger' had to maneuver wildly between them in order to get the right angle to launch the missile.

"There it is!" he screamed as found himself facing the target. Moving quickly into position at a range of almost seven hundred meters he lined up the Raptor as best he could before squeezing off the trigger. The missile streaked from underneath the Raptor and headed towards the target. Automatically 'Stinger' pulled away as the seemingly panic stricken Raiders tried to organize themselves to defend their Baseship. Taking advantage of this, 'Stinger' kept close to the forward upper arm of the Baseship as the two FTL computers quickly plotted an escape jump. 'Stinger' was gambling that the Cylons wouldn't fire in such proximity to the Baseship for fear of damaging it. The Raptor almost reached the end of the arm when it disappeared in a brilliant flash as its FTL drive engaged.

The missile glowed against the wall of the access tube that led to the loading bay aboard the Baseship. Detonating inside the ship its warhead vaporized the loading bay and the Centurions manning it. The explosion forced its way through numerous bulkheads and decks until it reached the outer hull. The central axis seemed to burst open in a brilliant flash as shards of debris flew out destroying hundreds of Raiders either still inside their sacks or swarming around their burning mothership.

* * *

'SUNDRIED' & 'DECCA'

Emerging from their jump, both men saw the long arm of a Cylon Baseship just one hundred meters away. They were staring directly into the bio-organic Raider sacks still housing their parasitic little warriors. Without even thinking about it 'Sundried' released the missile. It traveled for less than a second before impacting against the target and destroying the Raptor in the process. The detonation against the softly armoured sacks ignited the fuel cells the resulting explosion of which caused several nearby missile batteries to ignite. These in turn caused a cascade reaction amongst the other missile batteries and the arm became severed from the main hull.

The resulting explosions did not completely destroy the Baseship but it did destroy the bulk of its Raiders thus ensuring that they could not interfere when the Hermes and Alexis jumped in.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

The Battlestar was at Condition One. Vipers were in their launch tubes with their pilots eager to get stuck into the enemy. The Raptors were sitting on the Landing Deck ready to depart to provide electronic warfare support for the operation. Outside the ship was the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis waiting to make the jump back to Scorpia and take on the desperately needed supplies.

All that was left to do was for the order to be given by just one man. Standing in a silent CIC, Commander Artimus Bowman simply said, "Jump!"


	36. Chapter 36

CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA  
517 MILES ABOVE THE SURFACE

In a brilliant flash of light the Battlestar Hermes emerged from its FTL jump high above the planetary equator. With the jump completed its turrets began to turn outward in preparation for combat like an angry cat with its hair standing on end to make it look bigger and more ferocious.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Report!" Bowman's voice shot across the CIC towards Burmeister manning the tactical station. Even though her left arm was still weak from her self inflicted injuries Burmeister worked her console like it was an extension of her own body. Her movements were fluid and precise and it did not take her long to assess their situation.

"Jump completed" she announced. "All decks reporting normal."

"What about the Cylons?" asked Bowman whose heart was seemingly in his mouth. This was the moment he was dreading above all others. The Raptor group had the lowest chance of survival and he feared that he had sent them out there to die for nothing.

"There's still some residual interference on DRADIS from a nuclear detonation nearby" explained Burmeister as she tried to make sense of the readings. Bowman looked up at his own DRADIS screen hanging over the Operations Desk. The static from a nuclear blast was dissipating and it was beginning to show numerous objects nearby. The question was whether this was debris from a Baseship or a swarm of Raiders ready to attack. "Captain Burmeister?"

"I'm still checking sir!" she said as she became more and more frustrated with the readings. Suddenly the scans cleared and she looked on with glee as she reported, "Sir, I'm detecting a massive debris field in an apparent equatorial orbit. They got the frakker! I'm also picking up an additional debris field over the northern pole. That's two of them!"

"Yes!" hissed Bowman through gritted teeth even though they were still awaiting confirmation of the third Baseship which was on the opposite side of the planet and hidden from DRADIS. "Ok let's do this!" He turned to Durand at the communication console and ordered, "Launch Blue Team!"

"Aye sir!" replied Durand who then repeated the order through the intercom system.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK  
LAUNCH TUBE No.7

"Launch Blue team!" Durand's voice crackled inside Major Alex 'Griffon' Adonia's helmet as he sat poised and ready inside the cockpit of his Viper MkVII.

"Roger that!" replied 'Griffon' who then signaled to the catapult officer, Lt. Satchwell, who stood in the launch tube control room. Lt. Satchwell gave a visual acknowledgement before contacting 'Griffon' over the short range internal wireless. All the checks had been done before the jump and the Viper was ready. All that remained were the launch checks to ensure that the Vipers didn't all traverse their launch tubes at the same time and therefore risk collision upon leaving the ship.

"Viper Seven-Seven-Four you are cleared forward" reported Satchwell over the wireless. "NAVCOM is green." The launch tubes had already been depressurized but the exterior doors remained shut for the duration of the FTL jump in order to protect the Vipers from the spatial distortion. "Interval thruster check - positive and steady." The catapult was secured to the forward landing strut of the Viper and the exterior doors quickly began to open. At the end of the tube 'Griffon' could now see the blue horizon of Scorpia basking in an eternal night sky. Final checks were complete. Satchwell's board showed nothing but green lights. "Gods speed you 'Griffon'. Launching Viper!" Satchwell lifted the safety case from the launch button and pressed it down. In the blink of an eye the Viper was gone. From the order to launch to 'Griffon' leaving the tube took only eight and a half seconds.

'Griffon' sat pinned to his seat by almost 4G of pressure. The Viper vibrated wildly as it traversed the launch tube before being spat out into space. Almost instantly 'Griffon' yanked the control column upwards and away from the tubes to clear them. His eyes raced from side to side to get a visual on the rest of Blue Team who were launching alongside him. To his left was 'Boxer' followed closely by 'Slammer'. To his right was 'Hot Top' who was keeping a tight formation on his wing.

The Vipers swirled around into a holding pattern above the Port Hangar Pod waiting for the rest of Blue Team to form up on them after their own launch. Looking ahead, 'Griffon' watched as three Raptors emerged from the port Landing Deck each in heavy fighter configuration.

In just a few short minutes five more Vipers joined up with the first group bringing the total to nine – an odd number that left one Viper without a designated wingman. This was all part of the misinformation exercise that had been prepared before deployment to give the Cylons the impression that this was a desperate effort on the part of the Hermes and that they were on their last legs.

"Ok, Blue Team take flanking positions on the Raptors!" ordered 'Griffon' over the wireless. The Vipers surged forward to join the Raptors that were now formed up ahead of the Battlestar. The idea was to make the Cylons believe that the Hermes was involved in some kind of rescue operation but until now none had been seen on DRADIS. That was about to change however.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"New DRADIS contacts!" yelled out Burmeister. Bowman instinctively looked up at his own DRADIS screen and saw numerous blips appearing from the south eastern hemisphere of Scorpia. "Raiders, approximately thirty plus. No sign of the Baseship as of yet."

"We don't move until we see anything bigger than a Raider" announced Bowman reminding everyone of the plan. "Have Blue Team continue towards planet. Helm, bring us hard to port and put us between the Cylons and Blue Team. We want them to think we are trying to protect our birds!"

"Aye sir!" replied the young crewman manning the helm.

* * *

With its maneuvering thrusters burning brightly the Hermes began to turn in order to face the oncoming Raiders. The mighty Battlestar was now pointing toward the southern hemisphere and appeared to be diving towards the oncoming Cylons as though it were the newest kid on the block eager to pick a fight with the town bully.

In total there were thirty seven Raiders emerging from the opposite side of the former colony. These were the lucky survivors of 'Sundried' and 'Decca's half completed attack. There were sporadic Raiders all across the Colony who were away from their Baseships when the Raptors attacked but the nuclear blasts had confused their datalinks and thus disoriented their 'brains'.

This Raider group was trying to assess the situation and it was not long before they identified the scarred hull of the Battlestar Hermes hurtling towards them. One Raider on the extreme left flank of the group had spotted the Raptors and Vipers of Blue Team heading down towards the colony. The group quickly communicated their individual findings with one another to gain a complete picture of what was going on before assessing their options. The collaborative mind that came as a result determined that they should attack and attempt to disable the Hermes while they wait for reinforcements.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"A Raider jumped away!" said Burmeister as the DRADIS screen beeped signaling that it had lost one of the contacts.

"It's probably gone for reinforcements" said Bowman speculatively. "It would be quicker than sending a direct signal to their forces on one of the other Colonies." Bowman lifted up the handset from his desk and held it to his mouth to speak to the ship. After the tannoy klaxon sounded Bowman said, "This is the Commander; we are currently detecting a wave of Raiders on an attack vector. One of them has just jumped away to alert the Cylon Fleet of our arrival and what we have done to their orbiting Baseships. We should expect reinforcements to arrive at any moment. Remember your training and have faith in your ship and those who serve with you and we will get through this. Engine room; ready our hiccup!" The klaxon sounded once more indicating the end of the transmission and Bowman placed the handset back down on the desk.

He then turned to Burmeister and ordered; "Forward weapons; full auto fire! Set proximity fuses!"

Using her console Burmeister relayed the commands to the forward fire control crews. "Ready sir."

"Clear your guns, Captain!" ordered Bowman giving his first ever order to attack the Cylons instead of to repel being attacked. It felt good to be on the offensive for a change.

"Aye sir!" acknowledged Burmeister.

* * *

The Raiders were out of range with their own weapons and right now they were staring down the barrels of twelve forward firing heavy duty rail guns. Each one of the guns suddenly burst into life reigning fire onto their enemies. Every orange and yellow bolt represented a high speed shell being fired at the Cylons. Each shell carried an explosive charge detonated by a proximity fuse to ensure maximum damage against an enemy formation even if they didn't directly hit a target.

The Cylon group tried to disperse in order to limit the damage but they were too slow for the high speed shells and they remained inside the established 'kill box'. Plumes of orange and red fire erupted across a twenty five mile wide imaginary cube as the proximity fuses detonated. Shards of shrapnel were sent hurtling towards the Cylon Raiders splintering their hulls and damaging or destroying the 'brain' inside leaving the now pilotless craft to drift helplessly and wait to be destroyed by a direct hit.

At least seven of the Raiders were fortunate enough to make it out of the 'kill box' and attempted to out flank the Battlestar. Swooping around to port side of the Hermes they opened their missile bay doors and readied their nukes inside. Although they were still at extreme ranges they knew they had the benefit of numbers on their side. Suddenly, these Raiders found themselves once again inside a 'kill box', this time from the defensive batteries along the central hull. They launched their missiles in a vain attempt to inflict damage on the Battlestar before they were inevitably destroyed.

Six short burn missiles raced towards the Hermes, their blue smoke trails snaking their way towards their target in an effort to make them more difficult to shoot down. The defensive batteries blasted away trying to predict the path that they were taking. One was destroyed. Then another and another. With fewer missiles to target, the survivors found themselves receiving the full attention of the guns of the Battlestar Hermes. Four were now destroyed. The Hermes was now in the blast radius of the remaining two missiles which continued their hell-bent charge to their targets. A fifth missile was destroyed by the guns and the explosion caused the deck plates to rumble. Unfortunately the last missile found its target and exploded near the number two support strut that held the port Hangar Pod to the main hull. Fortunately however, Colonial Battlestars are built much tougher than their Cylon Baseship counterparts and the heavy armor in that section absorbed much of the blast leaving yet another scar on the vessel but it remained intact and most importantly was still able to fight!

* * *

THE COLONY  
SPACEBORNE CYLON HOMEWORLD

There is a room aboard the Colony where only the Cavils, the Cylon Number Ones, go. In fact the other Cylon models do not even know of its existence and the Centurions who guard it are detached from their peers in order to preserve the secrecy of this room. In this room five very important bodies are kept in rebirthing tanks waiting for the day that they will be activated when the consciousness of their respective owners downloads into them. These are the bodies of the Final Five Cylon models, each one unique amongst the Cylon race in that they have only one consciousness for each model. They were the creators of the main seven Cylon models – the Significant Seven.

Cavil sat perched on the side of the tank containing Ellen Tigh's body. Only her face sat out of the thick opaque gel contained inside the tank and her eyes were tightly shut giving the impression that she was asleep. He reached down and caressed her face with the back of his fingers on his right hand. To the casual observer it appeared that this was an affectionate gesture but the truth was the very feel of the frail substance known as skin made each of the Cavils sick to their very core. This physiological response only served to reinforce the hatred the Number Ones each felt for their human bodies and they each desired to rid themselves of this vile and disgusting shell and have a metal body.

"Sorry to interrupt you Brother" said the croaky voice of another Number One model as he entered the room. "But there's something you should be aware of."

"Let me guess?" replied Cavil in an almost bored tone as his eyes continued to look loathingly down on Ellen's face. "Hermes! Messenger to Zeus and the Lords of Kobol. God of flight and mischief has returned to the colonies."

The Number One standing near the doorway tilted his head in mild amusement at his compatriot's dry wit before answering, "Not the deity but the Battlestar certainly has. And in dramatic fashion I may add. Two of our Baseships in orbit have been destroyed. The third is heavily damaged and is retreating at sublight speed."

"Hmph!" said Cavil as he assimilated this new information in his genetically engineered brain. "You got to hand it to Bowman, the man knows how to make an entrance. What about our Baseship on the surface?"

"It's still waiting for orders" replied the other Cylon. "If Hermes is aware of it then Bowman appears to be leaving it alone. The others are demanding our presence to address the situation properly. The Sixes are especially agitated."

"Of course they are! They are ridiculously emotional machines. That's the way mother here designed them to be. Well, let's not let them develop an ulcer."

The Cavil sitting beside Ellen Tigh stood up and walked towards his identical 'brother'. Side-by-side the two of them walked quietly to the central control room where others were waiting for them. From this one room they could control their entire race. It was arranged in a similar fashion to the control room of a Baseship but on a much grander scale.

"It's about time!" snapped the Six as she saw the two of them approach.

"Forgive me if you would" said Cavil as he placed his hands into the gelatinous interface to access the central computer. "This old body makes running somewhat difficult." Cavil and the other Number One that had accompanied him both shared a private joke that echoed their disgust at their human bodies.

"I would think that you would take this more seriously, Brother?" pushed the Six. This is, after all, your plan."

"Let's not start that again shall we? Need I keep reminding you all that the vote for this operation was unanimous? What's the current situation?" Inside Cavil's mind he saw the tactical overview received from the Raider that had escaped from Scorpia. During the times he was 'plugged in' to one of these interfaces he truly felt like a machine and not a weak and pathetic organism with high blood pressure and poor eyesight.

"We've made contact with the surviving Raiders in orbit of Scorpia" reported the Five. "They are taking heavy casualties."

"We should launch the Baseship on the surface to provide support" suggested the Eight.

"Agreed!" added the Six sharply.

"Agreed!" said the Two.

"Let's just wait a little longer" said Cavil hinting at the rashness of Eight's suggestion. "Let's allow Bowman to think he is having his way just a little longer. Then we will launch the Baseship on the surface and throw in another two on top of him."

"Wait a minute!" said the Three suddenly. "Something's wrong! Where's the Alexis? Our Raiders are only reporting a small Raptor group from Hermes."

"Perhaps the vessel became unserviceable and they couldn't use it after all?" speculated the Four.

"Or it's already on planet?" interjected the Eight. "The nuclear blasts blinded our DRADIS. Alexis could have jumped in undetected."

"If that's the case" added the Six. "We should have our ground unit prepare to attack the Marines on the ground as per the plan."

"First we should confirm that the Alexis is already committed" said Cavil. "To attack Bowman's Marines too early would only convince him to abandon the operation. Have our Raiders confirm the Alexis is on planet first and then we will attack!"

* * *

CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA  
THE SERENA VALLEY

With a sound reminiscent of a mighty clasp of thunder the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis emerged from its jump inside the atmosphere at precisely the same moment that the Hermes had jumped into orbit. The Alexis immediately began to fall as if one of the Gods had held it high over the surface before simply letting go of it.

As soon as the jump was completed Caleb Dytto had fired the eight vertical thrusters and the ship shook violently as it tried desperately to slow its rate of descent. The vertical thrusters glowed brightly sending blue cones of flame towards the surface. Plumes of white vapor streamed from the thrusters as they superheated the surrounding air before it cooled back down again at the high altitude.

Dytto held the controls firmly as though he were holding on to life itself. He checked the instrumentation to get a fix on their current altitude above the surface. A short range DRADIS 'ping' shot directly down to the surface and then back up again. The result emblazoned across his navigation screen was not good news.

"It's thirty two thousand feet to the surface!" he called out to his co-pilot, 'Show Off', who sat in the starboard pilot's seat in order to assist Dytto.

"That's not good is it?" asked 'Show Off' with dread emanating through his voice.

"No it frakking aint" said Dytto. "We need at least thirty five thousand feet to slow down. Go to one-ten on the vertical thrusters!"

"Yes sir" replied 'Show Off' as he increased the power to the vertical thrusters to one hundred and ten per cent which meant they were operating at over ten per cent of the regulated power output. On 'Show Off's engineering screen a diagram displayed the Alexis and its eight vertical thrusters in the ventral hull. Each one of them had a temperature readout next to it and it showed that the temperatures within the thruster chambers of all eight were rising.

"If we don't get this girl to slow down soon" said Dytto who felt as though he were wrestling with the controls to keep the vessel steady in its high speed vertical descent, "then we're going to hit the deck like a bug on a windshield."

"I'd be happier without hearing that analogy, sir" said 'Show Off' in a not so funny way. Just over a week ago he had been put into a coma for several hours when his Raptor was damaged trying to salvage fuel from a destroyed Hangar Pod. He now began to wonder if by volunteering for this mission he had tempted fate.

As they passed through twenty thousand feet an alarm bell started sounding and a red circle appeared over one of the thrusters on 'Show Off's engineering display.

"What is it?" asked Dytto immediately wishing he hadn't.

"The number four vertical thruster is over heating!" blurted out 'Show Off'. "It's loosing thrust."

With one of the port side thrusters now loosing energy the Alexis began to tilt to the left. Dytto knew he couldn't counteract this tilt by decreasing power from the starboard thrusters without increasing the rate of descent. Therefore he used the maneuvering thrusters to help compensate. This was only a short term solution however because if another thruster began to malfunction then they would start to barrel roll and crash into the surface. It looked bleak.

"Spool up the FTL!" ordered Dytto. "We might have to jump away again."

The Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis hurtled passed ten thousand feet with no indication that it was going to slow in time. The ground was now getting unnervingly close and Dytto couldn't help but curse his own luck. He looked over at the engineering screen and saw that the FTL was spooling and 'Show Off' had entered in the rendezvous coordinates that had been set for the vessel to meet up with the Hermes when the operation was completed. The thought of admitting failure to Bowman angered him and with that fury a plan formulated in his mind. He didn't even think about the recklessness of it. He just did it!

He lurched forward and reduced power to the four aft vertical thrusters. To 'Show Off's horror the nose of the Alexis veered upward. He instinctively grabbed hold of his seat in an effort to hold him in place even though his safety straps would have done a good enough job. The same could not be said for the twelve unfortunate civilian volunteers sitting in the stripped out passenger compartment. As the nose veered up they found themselves thrown across the floor. Many of them shrieked and yelled fearing that they were crashing; which wasn't far from the truth!

With the nose pointed high in the air Dytto fired the main engines and opened the throttle for all it was worth. The Alexis began to fall diagonally as the forward thrust of the engines began to counteract vertical inertia. Four thousand feet from the surface the Alexis continued to surge forward and downwards. The rate of descent had dramatically slowed but it was still falling. The FTL was spooled and ready to make the jump but Dytto wanted to wait until the last second. Everyone was counting on this ship making that landing and Dytto had no intention of letting them down. In one final attempt to recover from the fall he reduced power on the aft four vertical thrusters down to almost zero and the Alexis pitched up even higher. With its main engines still burning the rate of descent began to slow down to nothing.

Knowing that he couldn't fly the Alexis like this he reapplied power to the aft vertical thrusters and the Alexis righted itself and cut power to the main engines. The heavy shuddering that those aboard the Alexis had experienced during the initial descent was now replaced a heavy vibration. Dytto read the instruments but didn't believe them so he looked out of the cockpit windows for confirmation.

The Alexis was hovering comfortably less than one thousand feet above the surface.

Both Dytto and 'Show Off' breathed a heavy sigh of relief. They knew that they could only take a few seconds to catch their breath because time was as big an enemy as the Cylons.

"So where are we?" asked Dytto.

'Show Off' accessed the navigational DRADIS array and took a 'picture' of the terrain for comparison to known charts of the region. The computer returned a seventy eight per cent match with a valley approximately eighteen miles west of the sports stadium. With that, Dytto set a heading towards the east and began to head towards the LZ.

As the vessel started making its way across the dense forestry a red eye looked on. The Centurion scout stood perched on the side of a mountain using its advanced optical sensors to monitor the vessel's progress. As per his orders he transmitted the data back to his command post that then relayed it to the Colony.

* * *

THE COLONY  
SPACEBORNE CYLON HOMEWORLD

The transmission was relayed through the gelatinous interface to each of the Cylon models who were 'plugged in' to the command centre. Some of them were surprised by the boldness of Bowman's plan while Cavil remained calm and composed.

"The Alexis has been committed" said the Three. "We must prepare our ground team."

"And send in the Baseships" added the Six. "Our Raiders are down to twelve per cent of their number."

Cavil slowly nodded as he agreed to the pressure that was being put on him by the others particularly by the Sixes who valued Cylon existence regardless of the capability to resurrect. Cavil suspected that they wanted to be more human than machine and resurrection was not part of what was called 'life'. He was patient however. His thinking on the matter was that over time, as the human race finally died, they would come to realize what they are. Machines! The greatest the universe has ever seen.

"Send in the Baseships!" he croaked in almost an unintelligible murmur. "Bowman has come looking for a fight then let's give him one."

* * *

CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA  
THE DEMETER JUNGLE

Sitting on the surface the immense Baseship had made quite a deep indentation in the moist tropical ground. From a distance it looked like an unusual rock formation with its grey outer shell sitting in the middle of the dense jungle. Perhaps that was how the animals of the jungle saw it as they seemed to be oblivious to its presence as they continued to struggle for survival in the poisoned vegetation.

Suddenly the ground began to tremble. The trees shook scaring groups of monkeys who ran away to what they felt was a safe distance before they turned back to watch what was happening. With a deafening roar and high pitched whistle the immense vessel began to rise up revealing the three pronged crater in the once damp mud underneath.

The Baseship continued to rise up steadily into the air carrying its fleet of Raiders nestled inside. It was not long before the vessel disappeared into thick low cloud as it made its way into orbit.

Its target – the Battlestar Hermes.


	37. Chapter 37

THE EREBUS BELT  
RAPTOR RONDEZVOUS POINT

Hiding on the edge of the planetary debris field, 'Stinger' and 'Walleye's Raptor sat tucked away between several large rocks that dispersed any DRADIS scans in the area that might give away their position. The 'paper plan' said that there should be three Raptors here ready to form up and rendezvous with the Hermes to help defend the Battlestar. No plan ever survives contact with the enemy.

They had been waiting for over twelve minutes now and there was still no sign of the other two Raptors. 'Stinger' peered through the transparent canopy searching desperately for ay sign of them. He knew that in the low light of he belt his eyes could detect a thruster burn or the exhaust plume of an engine from quite a distance but space was big and his chances slim. Unless the other Raptor found them first then his efforts were in vain but at least it felt like he was doing something.

'Walleye' knew the pressure 'Stinger' had put himself under during this mission. The two of them had flown together for over two years and had merged into a coherent and fluid team. What affected one of them never went unnoticed by the other. It was 'Stinger's first major undertaking as CAG and as such felt the weight of responsibility bearing down solely on his shoulders. If the others were indeed dead then 'Walleye' feared what this would do to his comrade and friend. He tried to keep 'Stinger's optimism alive while they waited but the truth was that all his efforts were becoming empty and almost misplaced on 'Stinger' as time went on and they were slowly forced to confront the inevitable – they were the only survivors of the Raptor group sent to destroy the Baseships.

"It's almost time" said 'Walleye' looking at the clock displayed in the top left corner of the primary display. "We got to jump back to Hermes." 'Stinger' failed to respond. His eyes just kept staring firmly ahead of them into the black vacuum. "Aaron?" said 'Walleye'. 'Stinger's head tilted to the side. Hearing his name and not his callsign had snapped him out of his thousand yard stare into nothingness. "We got to jump."

"I know" said 'Stinger' as his head turned back to the front. Swallowing heavily, he braced himself to give the order for 'Walleye' to begin spooling the FTL. As the Faster-Than-Light drive began powering up 'Stinger' allowed himself one last look out ahead of them just in case another Raptor appeared just at the very last second. Their Raptor suddenly disappeared in a flash leaving only rocks and debris behind.

* * *

SCORPIA

Breaking through the stratosphere with its two tier hull lined up to reduce forward drag the Cylon Baseship continued to rise upward uninhibited like a great hand reaching out of the planet's surface towards the heavens. The higher up it climbed the more the horizon appeared to get lower and the blue sky began to darken as it neared the border with space. The dark and poisonous rain filled clouds that had once hung above the ship as it sat on the surface now appeared as a great blanket strewn across the surface by one of the Gods.

Finally, the ship reached the end of its climb and began to tilt over as it positioned itself in orbit. The top and bottom tiers began to rotate as the ship configured itself for combat in space.

Continuing onward high over the planet the Baseship launched its Raiders. In droves they swooped from the Raider sacks that dominate the central axis of their mothership and began to swarm all over it like angry Bees around a spilled pot of honey.

Ahead of the Baseship and still firing its guns at the survivors of the initial group of Raiders that had come to challenge it was the Battlestar Hermes.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"New DRADIS contacts!" yelled Burmeister. "Cylon Baseship bearing two-one-one carom zero-four. It's-It's coming from the surface! They're launching Raiders."

Bowman looked up at his DRADIS screen hanging over the Operations Desk. The Baseship and its swarm of Raiders appeared as an almost unrecognizable blob changing in shape and size as the DRADIS signals of the Raiders became confused and distorted due to their close proximity to one another. The location of the blob was directly ahead of them coming from the direction that the initial group of Raiders had attacked from. Below the centre of the screen, which represented the Hermes, were the scattered signals of Blue Team's Vipers and Raptors which were invisible to the approaching Baseship thanks to the curvature of the planet below. That was not the intention however. Blue Team was supposed to be a diversionary unit.

As Commander, Bowman was presented with two options. Firstly, he could attack this one Baseship as it continued its approach. The Jupiter-class Hermes was a match for a single Baseship and its Raider wing but to do so would require launching the rest of his own air wing and he didn't want to commit those forces just yet. Alternatively he could try to run at sublight speed and maintain the deception that they were attempting some kind of desperate rescue mission.

Looking at the DRADIS as he weighed up his options he saw that Blue Team was getting further away from the Hermes as they carried out their part of the plan. This would make it that much harder to recover them when the time was right. With that in mind he quickly made his decision.

"Alright call Blue Team back!" he barked. "Have engineering ready our hiccup. Helm; bring us about to three-zero-zero carom one-five-zero. Let's close the gap between us and Blue Team."

The CIC quickly went to work carrying out his orders without hesitation or reluctance. They each trusted Artimus Bowman's judgement and for his part he was determined not to let them down.

* * *

The Battlestar Hermes began to slowly come around as its maneuvering thrusters worked hard to alter its course quickly. The front of the vessel soon faced the surface of Scorpia before it began to head back towards the eastern hemisphere.

With its main sublight engines now glowing hot the Hermes tried desperately to keep the Baseship just below the planetary horizon and therefore out of direct line-of-sight for its targeting systems. The longer the Hermes could hold off from a major battle the more time they bought for the Alexis and the ground team. The Battlestar was effectively using the planet for cover.

* * *

BLUE TEAM

"Blue Team this is Hermes-Actual, return to the ship. Repeat, return to the ship. Cylon Baseship on approach." Bowman's voice crackled in each pilot's headset.

"Ok Blue Team" called out 'Griffon' in the lead Viper . "Bring them around and let's go home. Combat landings so don't worry if it aint pretty. 'Slammer', I'm talking to you!"

'Griffon' killed the forward thrust of his main engines and yanked the controls to the right. The small thrusters on the port side of the nose fired momentarily and the Viper began to quickly yaw to the right. As the Viper came fully around in order to face the opposite way 'Griffon' applied the port thrusters to counteract the movement and the Viper stabilized.

The whole formation followed this abrupt change of direction. The bulkier Raptors seemed to take a little longer than the smaller and slender Vipers to turn but in one swift movement the group was now heading back to Hermes under full throttle.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

With the Hermes trying to keep away from the Baseship the image of the Cylons on the DRADIS screen became almost obscured by the planet below. After two minutes however it became clear that the Baseship and its Raiders were gaining ground on them.

"Helm!" called out Bowman. "Give me ten degrees nose down. We need to keep that Baseship just below the horizon so they can't get a clean shot." Bowman knew that this only offered a temporary solution. Having been a Raptor pilot for over thirteen years he knew that the Cylons could get around this problem by having a Raider fly higher above the planet and provide target information for the Baseship's heavy ship-to-ship missiles but the question was why hadn't they done this already?

He walked over to Burmeister's Tactical Station and leaned down beside her looking at the display. The Cylon Raiders seemed intent on maintaining their close defensive formation around the Baseship. In past encounters the crew of the Hermes had observed Cylon Raiders being able to conduct very short range jumps, much shorter than a Raptor could ever hope to achieve. They could jump in close to the Hermes, fire their weapons and jump back to the Baseship again in seconds so as to defend against a counterattack by Vipers or Raptors.

"Why don't they attack?" he asked her almost under his breath.

"Maybe they want to establish our disposition first?" speculated Burmeister. "We destroyed at least two of their Baseships that we know of so they may not be aware that we are the only Battlestar. They might think there are others."

"Possibly" added Bowman who wasn't too convinced. "ETA to Blue Team?"

"Five and a half minutes, sir" explained Burmeister.

* * *

CAPRIMART DISTRIBUTION CENTRE  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

Like a herd of stampeding bulls the convoy of trucks thundered back into the truckyard before each one began scrambling for a position along the row of loading bays. The result was confusion and disarray. Several drivers had simply put their trucks in front of the nearest loading bay instead of going to the end one to save space for the others behind him. This greatly limited the ability to maneuver the oncoming vehicles and while in peacetime this would merely be a headache right now it only further delayed the operation.

Adrastos saw what was going on and left Rory to park their truck in order to get some organization amongst the others. He ran up the convoy yelling orders to the drivers and his own Marines who in his mind should have known better.

"What the frak are you doing?" he screamed at one driver through his respirator. The driver in question had somehow managed to wedge his truck and its trailer into the far corner of the yard and every attempt to correct himself had only served to worsen the situation. Adrastos could feel a vain throbbing in his forehead as he spent a staggering six minutes helping the driver to reposition the truck safely in a loading bay. By the time it was parked at least four trucks were already loaded and their drivers were waiting to go.

"Sir!" called out Corporal Matheson who came running from inside the warehouse. Adrastos turned on the spot to see what the Corporal wanted. "Sir, the three trucks at the far end are loaded up. Shall I tell them to go?"

"No!" shot Adrastos angrily. "Keep them all here until everyone is frakking ready to go. We can't split them up. We need to stay together or there's greater chance of the Cylons detecting us. Pass the word Corporal; nobody moves without an I-SAY-SO!"

"Yes sir!" replied Matheson who went running back to relay the command.

"Gods!" gasped Adrastos as he couldn't believe the chaos that he was witnessing before him. The first convoy had gone without incident but getting the second one out seemed to be like trying to catch smoke with your hands. The discipline had been lost against the necessity for speed and Adrastos knew that this would be courting disaster. As the senior officer he had to regain the discipline and hold onto it even if it meant banging a few heads together.

As the loading of the remaining trucks continued he charged upto every one of his Marines and repeated his orders furiously to each one of them. His tone was less like a Lieutenant's and more like the meanest and angriest drill Sergeant in the Colonial Marines. For at least three of his junior Marines he was now more frightening than the Cylons for they feared what would happen if they failed him. The often polite and quite approachable Lieutenant now carried the wrath of the Gods on his shoulders and this served its purpose. Order was quickly being restored.

As the last trailer was loaded and closed up Adrastos signaled to his Marine guards to mount up on the trucks along with everyone else. Nobody was being left behind on this run because they weren't coming back. Whoever wasn't on the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis when it takes off after the convoy reached the stadium for the second time would become a permanent resident on Cylon occupied Scorpia.

Once again Adrastos rode with Rory Blake at the front of the convoy. Unlike his rather awkward entry into the cab during the first convoy, this time the Lieutenant held onto the door and in one quick move appeared to bound up and inside. Rory Blake nodded in approval before beginning to move the truck once more. As Rory guided the truck to the front of the convoy that was assembling beside them Adrastos looked down to check his watch.

"Frak!" he roared as his elbow powered into the passenger side door just to burn off the excess energy that was now flowing through his body. "We are almost fifteen minutes behind schedule!" Adrastos seemed to slump into his seat as he removed the respirator from his face and he began to breath without a metal filter over his nose and mouth.

Rory was not sparing the horses on this trip having gained some idea of what to expect on the road ahead. Adrastos was a little concerned that a truck behind them might fall behind if they kept up this pace (_That would be the order of things_) but he also new that they had to make up the lost time. If the plan was on schedule then the Alexis should be loading up the first lot of supplies right now and the concern was that the longer the ship was on the ground the more likely a Cylon patrol will spot it and attack.

As the last truck powered passed the gatehouse the Caprimart Distribution Centre in the Serena Valley fell silent once more. Its truckyard was virtually empty save for one or two vehicles that couldn't be made ready for the operation. Inside the warehouse the canyons of produce had all but disappeared. Only what physically couldn't fit onto the trucks was left behind along with several containers of alcohol. Bowman had sent orders to Adrastos that, "no space was to be wasted carrying booze". This was a supply run for food and bottled water. Nevertheless several of the containers of alcohol had been ripped open and a few of the bottles inside had been taken by an opportunistic Marine or civilian. With a gaping hole in the side of the containers several bottles of Virgon Brandy had fallen out onto the floor.

A low rumble suddenly emanated from outside. It grew louder and louder as it neared the now abandoned building. Continuing to grow in intensity the ground began to tremble and the bottles on the floor began to shake under the vibration. A loud whirring sound passed quickly overhead before being consumed by the sound of two spacecraft landing outside.

The two Heavy Raiders touched down in the now abandoned truckyard and their rear cargo doors flung open. Emerging from inside, the red 'eye' of the Centurions glowed through the darkened interior before they stepped out into the sunlight. Their mechanical hands retracted and their guns clicked into place from their forearms before they went about securing the site. Overhead, four Raiders circled to provide cover for their ground forces. The distribution centre was once again under Cylon control.

Behind the Centurions a short man in a teal colored suit, a trademark of his particular model, followed as they moved inside the building. It did not take the Cylons long before they confirmed that the Marines from the Hermes had abandoned the building completely - just as their observation posts in the surrounding mountains had reported only moments ago.

Standing in the warehouse the Number Five turned to the Centurion beside him and simply said, "Report this!"

* * *

BLUE TEAM

'Slammer' lined up with the starboard Hangar Pod. He was using the four corners of the opening to the cavernous Landing Bay as visual markers so that he knew when he was on the glide path. The term glide path was merely a relic from the days of aviation. A Viper wouldn't 'glide' onto the deck since there was no air passing over the wings to provide lift but if the engines cut out during an approach then the Viper could float onto the deck. 'Float path' would therefore be more accurate but wasn't as catchy.

Combat landings were far more hazardous than regular landings by a single vessel thanks to the larger number of ships and the limited time available for completion. The aim was simple; get on the deck quickly. The fear was always that you would either land on top of someone already down or they would land on you. To help counter this, the golden rule was always that whoever is in first must land closest to the entrance to the Landing Deck to allow the others to come in ahead of you quickly but above all reasonably safely. The further the Vipers and Raptors could spread out across the deck the safer it would be for all concerned.

Another major danger experienced by pilots during such a risky maneuver is the force of the impact against the deck which under combat conditions could range from relatively slow and steady to approaching the Viper's top sublight speed. This factor was exacerbated when the landing was attempted from ahead of the Battlestar as opposed to the more traditional rearward entry. A result of this type of approach is that the closing speed between the Viper and the Battlestar exceeds the Viper's actual speed and thus multiplies the force of the impact upon landing. This was only ever done in the most extreme of circumstances. The best way to avoid what was effectively a controlled crash landing would be to try and get the Viper's landing angle as shallow as possible to help dissipate the force of the impact.

All these things were running through 'Slammer's mind at this precise moment. The port Landing Bay seemed to be hurtling towards him like some great space Whale trying to swallow him up. His right hand held the control stick so tightly that he was sure it was going to break off in his hand. Even though he was strapped firmly into his Viper his chest continued to rise and fall as his breathing quickened. Every heartbeat felt as though there were a professional boxer inside him beating against his rib cage and his mouth had dried like a Libran desert.

Continuing his approach his eyes fixed on the opening to the Landing Bay, a dangerous act in itself since a pilot should always be aware of what's going on around him. He quickly came to realize that his approach was a little high and that he would have to make a last second ditch to catch the magnetic field of the Landing Deck. At best he would buckle the landing struts underneath his Viper. At worst the Viper would break in two as the force pushed down on the three struts beyond their design limits.

Knowing time was fast running out he dipped the nose and to his horror he saw 'Boxer' suddenly appear in his right periphery only yards away. Startled, he instinctively nudged the controls left and then quickly right again not to go off the glide path. He was still on course but barely.

The glow from 'Boxer's main engines suddenly dimmed and his Viper began to slowly fall behind 'Slammer's. 'Slammer' quickly copied 'Boxer' and reduced the throttle in his left hand down from '80%' burn, passed 'IDLE' until it reached 'BRAKE'. This signaled to the Viper's flight control system to maintain the engines at idling power but apply the forward thrusters to slow the fighter down. There was now only seconds before Blue Team's landing and the slower approach would go a long way to easing the workload and stress for the pilot and his Viper.

With nothing in front of him and 'Boxer' beside him he knew he had to aim for the forward quarter of the deck to allow the two Raptors behind them to pass overhead and land further down. 'Griffon', 'Hot Top' and the rest of Blue Team were landing inside the starboard Hangar Pod.

'Slammer's approach was still a little high and he appeared to be drifting to the left of the glide path which put him on course for a collision with the side of the Hangar Pod. Keeping his eye on 'Boxer' he slowly corrected just as the Vipers entered the final leg of the landing. From here on out no matter what happened the Vipers had to enter the Hangar Pod because it was too late to pull away without hitting the Battlestar.

'Slammer' seemed to stop breathing as the lower lip of the mouth of the Hangar Pod suddenly passed underneath him. Just before the roof passed overhead he could have sworn he caught a momentary sparkle in space high above the Battlestar but he didn't have time to ponder what it was. He knew he wasn't descending quick enough to make his aim point and so in one quick move he tilted the nose high and used the dorsal thrusters to push the Viper down onto the deck. This ensured that the force of the impact was distributed amongst the two rear landing struts rather than concentrated on the front strut.

In a sudden and violent move the rear landing struts hit the deck and the nose immediately dived downwards. The rear of the Viper lifted up again before the nose strut thumped into the deck throwing 'Slammer' into the straps around his torso. The Viper ricocheted several feet off the deck before the artificial magnetic field forced it back down. 'Slammer' quickly raised the Viper level with the deck and the small fighter touched down on all three struts. It slid across the deck for several meters before finally coming to rest.

'Slammer' began to breathe again for what felt like the first time in years. He couldn't suck the oxygen into his lungs quick enough to satisfy their hunger as he watched 'Boxer' slide to a halt on the deck just alongside him. Barely a second later and the two Raptors in their heavy fighter configuration with box mounted missile launchers swooped overhead like two rather obese and ugly looking birds. With over three quarters of the deck to land on the Raptor pilots made light work of their landings. They made rather shallow but high speed approaches and slid quite a distance across the deck before coming to a halt. As long as they were on the deck the Hermes could safely jump away with them.

'Slammer' now sat there knowing that his flying for that day was anything but over. Little did he know, however, that he had actually seen something very important as he made his approach. That sparkle wasn't just another star!

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

The DRADIS screens across the CIC beeped wildly as they displayed the new contact which was over eighty five miles above the Battlestar. Bowman was still looking down at Burmeister's screen when it had appeared. The computer quickly identified it as a Cylon Baseship but before Bowman, Burmeister or anyone else in the CIC could react a second Baseship jumped in directly ahead of them. Bowman immediately saw what was going on as he looked at one Baseship ahead of them, one behind them, one above them and an entire planet below.

"They're trying to box us in!" he said as he turned abruptly on the spot to face Durand. "Is Blue Team onboard?"

"Yes sir!" shot Durand.

Bowman quickly picked up the intercom handset from the Operations Desk and held it to his head before selecting loudspeaker. A klaxon wailed through the ship before he spoke, "Engine room; ready the FTL drive. All hands brace for impact!"

Bowman had barely put the handset back down when Burmeister yelled, "Radiological alarm!"

* * *

The Cylon Baseship directly above them activated its nuclear weapons and they squeezed out of their protective alcoves before training on the Hermes below. These missiles were about half the size of a Cylon Raider and were designed to kill Battlestars. They were a very real threat to Bowman and his ship.

With their variable yield warheads primed and set the missiles burst from their launch railings and began to race downwards leaving a long blue trail behind them as their engines burned up the fuel inside. Although more powerful than the types of nukes carried by Raiders the drawback to them was that they were larger and therefore presented a bigger and clumsier target.

Automatically the defensive turrets of the Hermes blasted away sending shells towards the first volley of missiles numbering seven in total. Proximity fuses on the shells went a long way to disabling the guidance systems of two of the missiles while three more were hit directly and destroyed.

For their part the missiles began snaking in a defensive manner trying to throw off the defensive batteries targeting systems. The work of the Hermes gunners was made all the more difficult by jamming emanating from the Baseships which confused their targeting DRADIS. Luck had momentarily departed the crew of the Hermes and the two surviving heavy missiles slammed into her armoured hull.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

The impact threw Bowman forward into the Operations Desk and was forced to hold out his hands to keep himself upright. A young crewman to the right of him had failed to brace himself when he was ordered and seemed to be thrown off his feet before landing on the floor near the entrance to the CIC.

"Sir, engine room reports the FTL hiccup is ready!" called out Durand.

"Captain Burmeister?" asked Bowman.

"Ready sir!" she replied.

"Helm! When we emerge from the jump I want you to put us into a five degree per second starboard roll to make them think we've taken damage." The helmsman only nodded his acknowledgment. "Alright this is it! Jump!"

* * *

With missiles now streaming towards it from three different directions the Battlestar Hermes became engulfed in a brilliant flash of light that ran the length of the vessel before squeezing it through a spatial distortion created by ripping the very fabric of space and time. In the blink of an eye it was gone but the Cylons would be mistaken for thinking that this was the end of the battle as the Hermes had almost immediately reappeared three hundred thousand kilometers away.

The act of emerging from this particular jump was hardly smooth. The engineers aboard Hermes had caused the FTL to deliberately malfunction in such a way as to produce what is called an 'FTL hiccup'. In the automobile world it would be the equivalent of someone driving off at high speed and then stalling leaving the vehicle to coast under its momentum. The Hermes seemed to be spat out of the light that signified the end of a jump rather than appearing in space quite sublimely as would normally be the case. As he was instructed to, the helmsman had initiated a slow starboard roll to reinforce the impression that the FTL had malfunctioned. This proved quite unnecessary however.

After emerging from the jump the eight sublight engines that also provided the ships electrical power began to splutter and cough as they were momentarily starved of fuel. The FTL hiccup had overloaded the power grid forcing the safety devices to kick in so as to prevent an explosion. The only way it could possibly do this was by momentarily shutting down every single system on the ship.

The darkened Battlestar Hermes was thus cut adrift in the endless sea of space with no power and no way to defend itself from the three Baseships that were now on an intercept course.


	38. Chapter 38

UNIVERSITY OF SCORPIA SCHOOL OF ATHLETICS AND SPORT  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES

The empty stands of the stadium shook and rattled as a long black shadow slowly crept along the ground until finally it enveloped the entire playing field. The Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis hung in the air like an enormous whale swimming through a grey sea. Its vertical thrusters kicked up dust and debris as they continuously fired downward in order to keep the vessel airborne.

Looking at it hovering over the stadium some of the Marines below, who were acting as safety marshals to help land the ship, could have been forgiven for thinking that it wasn't going to fit inside. Six of the Marines had been pulled from their OPs to help guide Dytto into land. They each positioned themselves along the circumference of the playing field with a flare that produced bright red smoke. When the ship was clear at their position they would hold their flares down to their waist. If the Alexis was coming down onto an obstruction then the relevant safety marshal would begin waving his flare to get the attention of Callisto in the commentator's box who would then alert Dytto in the cockpit. It took several minutes to line the Alexis up properly before Callisto could finally allow Dytto to put the vessel down onto the ground.

With its landing struts extended the Alexis now looked more like a four legged Beetle than a whale. Reducing power on the vertical thrusters allowed the vessel to begin to descend inside the stadium. The lower it got the more dust and debris the ship kicked up. With their job complete the six marshals decided that the best thing to do was to try to take cover behind the barrier separating the spectators from the field. With just a few feet of separation between the struts and the ground the thrusters began throwing up large chunks of grass that went hurtling in numerous directions including back up against the ship. Finally the struts made contact with the ground and the hydraulics hissed as they began to take on the weight of the vessel thus allowing Dytto to disengage the vertical thrusters. As he did so the vessel seemed to shudder as the weight pushed the landing struts deep into the grass below. The four landing struts sank over a foot and a half into the ground before the soil compacted enough to finally take the entire weight of the vessel. The Alexis had finally landed on Scorpia.

Dytto and 'Show-Off' breathed a rather heavy sigh of relief as they both sat back in their seats relieved that they had made it down safely. As Dytto looked out of the pilot's window he could see the roof of the stadium just below the cockpit only twenty five feet away. In his mind he came to the conclusion that this was by far and away the most 'exciting' landing of his career. It had by no means gone to plan. They were supposed to have emerged from their jump a lot higher than they had done and if it wasn't for Dytto's quick thinking and skill at the controls then the Alexis would have, as he so elegantly put it, ended up like a bug splattered on a windshield when it hit the ground. They had also emerged further away from the stadium than they had anticipated and had lost time traveling here over the valleys of the Northern Territories. He told himself that there was no point kicking himself about that now however. They were here and they were safe. All that was left to do was get on with it and that's exactly what he did. Within seconds the main cargo door in the ventral hull had swung open and was resting on the ground. Dytto left 'Show-Off' to stay in the cockpit and begin system checks while he organized the 'civvies' and the Marines who were beginning to load up the supplies from the first convoy.

As he supervised the loading his mind returned to Hermes. He could only wonder what was happening in space right now aboard the ship that was now his home. A small part of him still believed that this operation was biting off more than they could chew although the rest of him now believed it could be done. Still, that little voice was quite loud.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

The lights returned to the brain of the Battlestar Hermes about a minute after they had been extinguished by the power loss. During that time the CIC crew had to work to restore their systems in the dim emergency lighting that was powered by independent battery cells and therefore unaffected by the loss of main power. The new and reinvigorated light stung their eyes as they fought to adapt to its brightness. With the screens back on Bowman quickly ordered, "SITREP! Where are the Baseships?"

Burmeister couldn't answer him immediately. The DRADIS had been shut down by the power outage in the midst of heavy jamming from the Cylons. Powering the system back up and more importantly calibrating it was thus made all the more difficult. Nevertheless she managed to break through it until she locked the system on the nearest Baseship and then continued to modify the signal strength as she fought to counter the Cylon jamming. Suddenly and only for a few moments she had a clear picture. The Cylons of course quickly adapted their jamming and her screen was once more covered in static but in that time she had managed to get a clear tactical picture.

"Sir, I'm now reading six Baseships in close proximity to one another on an intercept course. They are traveling at sublight and they should be within weapons range in three minutes."

"Six?" asked Bowman to which Burmeister nodded. "They must have called in three more ships when our DRADIS was down. What about their Raiders?"

"DRADIS is a mess" replied Burmeister as she tried to break through the jamming once more, something that took every trick she knew. "As near as I can tell they are still holding back."

Bowman's mind worked frantically as he put himself in the frame of mind of the Cylons. He knew their Baseships had a powerful missile armament but that could only do so much. Their armour was relatively weak compared to a Battlestar and the ships lacked any real close-in weapon system.

"They're playing it safe" he said to Burmeister. "They're still trying to figure out how we managed to knock out their Baseships in orbit. They think we have additional support that they haven't detected yet. They don't know it's just us. They won't want to get into a knife fight with us so they're going to surround us at extreme range and split their Raiders into groups; one to attack and one to protect their Baseships." Bowman turned on the spot and faced Durand. "Have Red Team relaunch! Get their Raptors to start work on breaking through the jamming and provide us with some targets. We can't shoot what we can't see."

"Yes sir!" replied Durand.

"Sir new DRADIS contact!" bellowed Burmeister. "It's…I'm getting a Colonial transponder signal. Verifying…it's 'Stinger'!"

There was a sudden roar of cheer and thanks from the CIC as they heard that one of their Raptors had come home. It didn't last very long however as they soon came to realize that he was the only one of the three. Bowman knew he didn't have time to dwell on the loss of the other two. Every second counted as the Cylon force continued to approach them casting a long net of Baseships and Raiders that was ready to swoop down on them.

"Have 'Stinger' join up with the Raptors from Red Team" continued Bowman. "He and 'Walleye' are the best in the business. If anyone is going to break through it it's them."

* * *

'Stinger' pulled alongside the Hermes as Red Team began to emerge once more from inside the Hangar Pod. 'Walleye' kept his eyes fixed on the screen in front of him as he tried to make sense of the confusing readings. The problem was that the strength of the jamming was simply too strong for them to bypass. There were too many Baseships emitting false signals and this overwhelmed the Colonial's DRADIS. With that in mind he turned to the plethora of additional sensors located within the Raptor's sensor suite; infra-red and ultraviolet spectrum telescopes, magnetic anomaly detectors, gamma radiation detectors and a host of other supplementary but less accurate equipment. To fly a ship like this has often been likened to driving a car while looking through a straw. You only get to see a very small portion of what's out there and it leaves you vulnerable to counter attack.

"Wait a minute" uttered 'Walleye' as he worked through the Gamma radiation scanners. "Something is wrong with this one."

"What?" asked 'Stinger'. "What is it?"

'Walleye' continued to work his console so fluidly it was as if it were a natural extension of his own body. His eyes rarely left the screen to see what his hands were doing. Many Raptor ECMOs, including 'Walleye', would often boast that they could literally be blindfolded and still know where every single button was on their console. It was this capability that meant 'Walleye' seldom missed anything and today was no exception.

"There's something wrong with this Baseship!" he explained to 'Stinger' as he highlighted the Cylon warship on the extreme left flank. "The Gamma radiation levels are significantly lower than the one next to it."

"Maybe their nukes haven't gone hot?" speculated 'Stinger' who was maneuvering the Raptor into formation with 'Griffon' and a second Raptor in heavy fighter configuration. 'Stinger' and 'Walleye' were now going to be the eyes of Red Team while the others would provide cover.

"Maybe, but his buddy is glowing hotter than the Canceron sun. I'm switching over to infra-red." The image changed to a plume of white and grey. From this distance the infra-red telescope was not powerful enough to detect the specific features of an object even one the size of a Baseship. But even so the infra-red signal was significantly lower than the Baseship alongside it. This was all 'Walleye' needed to figure out what was going on. "Spook!"

"What?" asked 'Stinger'.

"It's a spook!" repeated 'Walleye'.

* * *

Sitting where DRADIS was showing a Baseship there was in fact a Heavy Raider with a formation of standard Raiders grouped around it in the same defensive posture as though it were a Baseship. The Heavy Raider was a specially modified electronic warfare version designed to confuse DRADIS into thinking it was a full size Baseship with the intention of drawing away enemy fire from the real Baseships.

In Colonial military parlance these types of vessels were known as 'Spooks' or 'Ghosts'.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Ok, pass the information onto fire control!" ordered Bowman to Burmeister. "When we engage them have them disregard the Baseship on the far left flank."

"Yes sir!" replied Burmeister before relaying the order to the fire control teams that she commanded as the ship's Tactical Officer.

"Time to intercept?" asked Bowman.

"Ninety seconds" replied Burmeister.

"Very well then. No point holding back any longer. Launch Blue and Gold Teams! Have the Vipers take up defensive positions around our firing line. Anything that breaks through the Vipers gets taken out by our guns. Have the Raptors start breaking through the DRADIS smoke screen and provide us with some target data for those Baseships. This is it people. Unleash hell!"

* * *

There are fewer sights more impressive than the entire air wing of a Jupiter-class Battlestar launching into combat. Hermes wasn't even at full strength and yet the Vipers launched from their tubes like angry angels descending from Olympus carrying the wrath of Mars and Zeus in their guns. The Hermes could only muster sixty eight operational Vipers and twelve Raptors for the operation but their pilots and the gunners aboard the Hermes carried with them the heart of an entire fleet of Battlestars. There are many things within the human heart that can rally it to fight more fiercely than any machine ever could – fear, anger, hope, love. For the warriors aboard Hermes it was a mix of all these things with one overwhelming emotion that dominated them all and demanded to be satisfied; Revenge!

If its air wing launching wasn't an impressive enough sight then the Cylons were about to get another shock. The Hermes suddenly began to turn towards the approaching fleet. With the odds stacked against his ship Bowman knew that the only way to win this battle was to take the fight to the Cylons rather than play on their terms. It was bold and perhaps a little reckless but if Hermes could get in close enough to the Cylons then their missile advantage would be nullified because of the proximity of the detonations that would damage their own ships. Also it would give the gunners aboard Hermes a clear shot even with their targeting DRADIS being jammed. The Vipers and Raptors were essential for this tactic. It would be their job to keep the Raiders at bay while Hermes took on the Baseships. With their sublight engines glowing hot the Hermes and its air wing began to charge towards the centre of the enemy fleet.

Even Cylons can be occasionally surprised. This aggressive move seemed to force them to scatter the centre of their fleet to allow Hermes to pass by at a distance from which they could still launch their missiles but their progress was relatively slow compared to the Raiders who were now swooping up and away from their motherships to begin their attack on the Battlestar from above.

Like an intricate game of galactic chess the two sides positioned their pieces before they finally attacked.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Ten seconds!" called out Burmeister as the Vipers and Raiders closed in on each other. Her DRADIS screen was still largely confused but she was gaining a better understanding of the tactical picture thanks to the coded signals being relayed from the Raptors. The signals themselves were received by a coded wireless set that was not hardlinked to any other system on the Battlestar to ensure that the Cylons couldn't use it to implant a virus that could disable Hermes.

They used that trick once. They weren't going to do it again!

"Contact!"

* * *

'Boxer' had never seen so many Raiders in his life. It was a terrifying sight but as his laser rangefinder mounted on his railguns indicated he was in weapons range he just squeezed the trigger and fired almost blindly. 'Boxer' and his fellow Viper pilots spewed gunfire at the Raiders who returned the gesture. Like some terrifying fireworks display the eternal night sky began to flash with plumes of fire and glowing debris from the exploding Raiders and Vipers.

The two formations merged and it became almost impossible to distinguish between the forces of either side. As the Raiders passed on all sides 'Boxer' dared not make any dramatic movements for fear of colliding with the enemy ships. Instead he used the closure speed to prevent the Cylons from getting a clear shot. Having broken through the main bulk of the Raiders the Vipers swooped back on the Cylons to attack from their enemy's rear.

Knowing that they had the advantage of numbers on their side the Cylon Raiders split into two groups; half of them turned to fight the Vipers while the others continued their attack on the charging Hermes.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Defensive batteries; selective fire only!" called out Bowman to Burmeister. Given the close proximity of the Vipers the gunners aboard Hermes would have to pick their targets rather than lay down fields of suppressive fire which would have been more effective against such a large formation. This job was made more difficult by the fact that the targeting DRADIS was at best confusing and at worst useless due to the heavy jamming. When the jamming prevented accurate targeting then the gunners would have to rely on optical sensors linked to the good old fashioned Mark I eyeball.

"Radiological alarm!" cried out Burmeister. "Nukes imbound!"

The deck plates suddenly trembled as a missile impacted on the hull. It was a small weapon and everyone in the CIC knew that the Cylons had much bigger tools waiting for them on the Baseships. The very Baseships they were charging against.

"What's the nearest Baseship?" asked Bowman.

Burmeister looked down at all the information she was receiving from the Hermes own sensors and the Raptors and had it overlapping on her main screen in effort to produce a complete tactical picture.

"The nearest Baseship is at zero-one-three carom one-seven-seven" reported Burmeister as the deck plates trembled from a second missile hit.

"Helm; alter course to zero-two-zero carom one-seven-seven!" Bowman's course took the Hermes in the direction of the Baseship and the two vessels would pass only a few miles apart from one another, a microscopic distance in terms of space travel. "Stand by on forward guns for suppressive fire and ready a nuclear ship-to-ship!"

"Sir that's the only nuke we have left!" protested Burmeister.

"I'm aware of that, Captain, but I want to take out one out as quickly as we can. Have 'Stinger' and his 'Raptor Wranglers' put down their smoke screens and make sure we aren't heading for another spook!"

* * *

Through heavy defensive fire the Raiders pushed on in a near suicidal charge towards the Hermes. Proximity fuses detonated the shells in close proximity to the Raiders to try and damage or destroy them as well as prevent them from gaining a clear shot against the Battlestar. Raider after Raider made the mad dash towards the ship. The most forward Raiders were almost certainly doomed and with this knowledge the following Raiders tried to use the carcasses of their dead comrades for cover to try and get closer to the Hermes in order to fire their missiles. Several Raiders managed to get one or two of their missiles off before they fell to the guns of Hermes. These small and highly mobile missiles proved extremely difficult to target and thus destroy. Fortunately their warheads were not large enough to incur significant damage on their own but over time they would take their toll. The surviving missiles hit the armoured hull of the Battlestar and exploded in a brilliant flash that would burn the unprotected eye.

This process was repeated over and over as the Raiders swarmed around the Battlestar trying desperately to find a weak spot in the ship's defenses before they were destroyed by gunfire. Had the Raiders been piloted by humans you could respect their courage but they were machines and had no emotion, at least not that anyone was aware of.

The Viper and Raptor pilots were human however and very scared. Pilots, despite what their bravado might imply, do get scared but its how they handle that fear that differentiates them. The fighter pilot mentality from the earliest days of flight to this battle taking place in space has always been the same; use the fear! Harnessed properly fear can be as potent a weapon as a nuclear warhead. One person who knew this was the Hermes CAG, 'Griffon'.

'Griffon' never felt more alive than when he was in battle. With 'Slammer' covering him as best he could in the chaos 'Griffon' pressed on ahead maneuvering wildly in order to confuse his opponents. His trigger finger had developed an almost lightning reflex action and a Raider had only to be in his sights for a mere second to fall victim his guns. His bursts were short in order to preserve his ammunition but devastatingly effective. One kill! Two kills! Three kills! There were so many of the enemy Raiders but the aggressiveness of his pilots meant that the Cylons couldn't properly form up despite their overwhelming numbers. You can build a machine to be a weapon but it takes a warrior's heart to win a war. Unlike any other commodity aboard the Hermes the warrior's heart was in ready supply. Four kills! Five! Despite the sparing use of his guns 'Griffon' soon came to realize that they were more likely to run out of ammo before the Cylons ran out of Raiders.

* * *

'Tumbler', a young pilot from Leonis, felt his whole body apparently vibrating with fear as it consumed him. As he yanked the controls in every direction the Viper tossed and turned like a wild horse trying desperately to throw him off. Every action he made was in response to something happening around him. He seldom made any move that was not in an effort to avoid crashing into another Viper or Raider. His aggression was lost as the survival instinct tried to desperately take over.

The Viper trembled. An alarm wailed. Suddenly the entire front cockpit tore away from him as his Viper was cut into two pieces. For the few milliseconds he remained alive 'Tumbler' saw only space in front of him. Shells from a nearby Raider continued to pound the decapitated Viper before they finally tore into his body. His chest ripped open and his blood burst out into space in the shape of dark red balls.

Payback was swift. The victorious Raider was suddenly on the receiving end of 'Slammer's guns. The rounds cut through the Raider's hull and ignited the fuel cells. The bat like fighter was engulfed in flames that lived for only a few seconds before they died away after being starved of oxygen in the vacuum of space.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK

"'Tumbler's dead! Oh my Gods!" 'Slammer's voice echoed through the cavernous Hangar Bay that was now almost devoid of its Vipers and Raptors save for a few scrapped examples at the far end of the deck.

Melissa 'Aurora' Saunders stood beside Chief Imlay as they listened to the hectic wireless transmissions that were going on outside. Some people think that it is only the pilots themselves who experience the feelings of loss whenever a ship gets shot down. They forget the knuckledraggers who readied that ship for combat and signed it over to the pilot that was now dead. It is always worse for the Deck Chief who takes the responsibility for getting the whole air wing out into combat. Robert Imlay was no exception.

Imlay's lips moved silently as he mouthed a prayer for 'Tumbler's soul to be carried on into the next life. 'Tumbler' had only been on Hermes for three months and was still very much a Rook despite having survived the Battle above Picon and the battles since. Being a devout family man he often saw these younger pilots as his own children in a roundabout sort of way. He could prepare them and their craft as best he could but in the end it was down to them. He didn't know if he truly believed in the Gods but he always felt that there was no harm in saying the prayer when one of them fell in combat – even if it was to only ease the burden on his own soul.

The wireless chatter continued to echo through the vast empty space as though the pilots were calling out at each other across an empty valley.

"Frak he's behind me! There they are!"

"'Slammer' help me for frak sake!"

"I'm coming! Break right now…Got the bastard!"

"'Stinger!'"

The callsign of the acting CAG was screamed out across the Hangar Deck by 'Boxer's disembodied voice. It was in a fit of sheer terror that implied the worst. The voices continued to call out to one another but everyone on the Hangar Deck was listening out for one in particular.

"We've been hit! 'Walleye' has been hit! I'm declaring an emergency."

To everyone's surprise it was Bowman's voice who responded.

"'Stinger' this is Actual! You got a clear run to the Port Landing Deck. Come in from the rear hemisphere, we are making a clearing for you. 'Griffon', provide cover!"

"Roger that Actual!" replied 'Griffon's voice. "'Slammer' and 'Hot Top' you're with me!"

Knowing that a Raptor was coming in for an emergency landing Imlay burst into action. He ran forward to address his team. His voice bellowed louder than that of those coming in from the battle outside.

"Alright!" he cried out. "We got a Raptor coming in hot! Fire suppression drill! Let's frakking move it!"

The deck suddenly became a hive of activity once more as several of the deck gang adorned their fire retardant silver coveralls and masks. Everyone seemed to know what to do except for 'Aurora'. Feeling that everyone would be better if she was out of the way she ran off to the side and watched Imlay's team running as smoothly as a well oiled machine – in her mind not the best metaphor given the nature of their enemy but an accurate one nonetheless.

* * *

'Stinger's damaged Raptor slammed down onto the magnetic Landing Deck as 'Griffon', 'Hot Top' and 'Slammer' passed overhead in order to return to the battle outside the vessel. The Raptor bounced several feet away from the deck before the electro magnetic surface caught hold of the Raptor once more and brought it back down with another heavy bump before it came to rest.

Fuel was still spewing from the large gaping hole in the starboard engine when the bright yellow tractor trundled its metal wheels across the deck to push the crippled ship onto the deck lift. There was heavy scorching around the main cabin and oxygen was leaking from several microfractures. With his comrade injured and his environmental suit torn 'Stinger' had reactivated the life support system aboard the Raptor to try and create an atmosphere to keep his friend alive. It was a gutsy move because he risked explosive decompression but you never turn your back on a comrade to save your own neck, especially if he's your friend.

The yellow tractor quickly pushed the Raptor onto the deck lift leaving long scratches along the deck from where the landing skids had collapsed during the force of the heavy landing. With the Raptor in place the tractor began to reverse away and allow the deck lift to be lowered. The Raptor had now exhausted its fuel but there was still a fire risk from residual Tillium that might have clung to the damaged hull.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES PORT HANGAR DECK

The crippled Raptor emerged from the roof of the Hangar Deck as the deck lift lowered it down from the air lock located between below the Landing Deck. Its hull was blackened and heavily scarred from enemy fire and no sooner had the deck lift stopped then the fire suppression teams began to douse it in fire suppressant foam to prevent the fuel from accidentally igniting.

In his silver fire retardant clothes Imlay clambered up the port wing and tried desperately to get the cabin hatch open. 'Stinger' had left the cockpit and was tending to 'Walleye' as he waited for Imlay and his team to get them out. The heat of the enemy weapons fire had melted down several inches of the hatch and sealed it shut to the main hull.

"Come on we need to cut them out!" cried Imlay. Looking at the melted hatch he quickly realized that it was going to take too long to cut through it. "Alright, smash the cockpit! We'll have to get them out through the front."

Snatching a hammer from one of his Specialists Imlay went about breaking the transparent canopy at the front of the Raptor. It was slow work since the reinforced windows were designed to protect against small meteor hits. Fortunately it had been cracked in several places and this allowed them to gain access by using a mix of hammering and heating it up with an industrial blow torch to help weaken it further. The canopy soon began to peel away like some strange grey pâté and Imlay clambered inside to help 'Stinger' who was sitting on the cabin floor clutching his friend in his arms.

"Stretcher!" called out Imlay to his deck gang who quickly began feeding the stretcher through the hole in the front window. 'Stinger' and Imlay began to move 'Walleye's body as best they could in the tight confines of the Raptor's interior. It was difficult and frustrating work but nevertheless they succeeded. A human chain was formed outside to help carry his body out of the crippled Raptor.

'Aurora' stood and watched with open mouthed horror as the injured body emerged from the front cockpit of the Raptor. 'Walleye's console had exploded and melted some of his environmental suit to his skin. As he was carried out he shrieked and cried out in pain from all the moving about. It was a scream that reverberated in her mind as she came to realize that had she been given her way then there was a very real chance that it could have been her. She had asked to be assigned a Raptor but 'Stinger' had refused because she was still not trained up to full standards. Now she truly understood why he had done it.

'Stinger' ran alongside 'Walleye' as he was carried off towards sickbay for medical attention. Suddenly 'Aurora' felt the whole deck tremble violently and a deafening explosion drowned out the voices from the wireless chatter. It was quickly followed by a second explosion and in her frightened state she fell over onto her side.

Hermes was clearly being hit by some heavy weapons.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Impact on the port Hangar Pod!" declared Durand. "Armour is holding."

"For now" uttered Bowman under his breath before turning to Burmeister. "Range to the Baseship?"

"Five thousand kilometers and closing" she replied.

"Status of the nuke?"

"Nuclear ship-to-ship missile is in tube seven. The warhead is hot" she replied firmly.

"Wait until we are five hundred kilometers away before firing" ordered Bowman as the deck plates trembled under the impact of yet another heavy nuclear missile fired from the Baseship.

"Sir that is going to get us pretty frakking close to the blast!" explained Burmeister matter-of-factly.

"It's our only shot, Captain! I'm not taking any chances. Set the warhead for maximum yield and make sure our pilots are well clear of the blast area. Helm; once the nuke is off swing us hard to starboard. Reduce power to the numbers four, five and six main engines to help swing us around. "

"Aye sir!" called out the terrified Helmsman who readied himself to follow his orders.

"Three thousand kilometers!" announced Burmeister.

* * *

The Battlestar Hermes continued its attack towards the Baseship. Raiders, Raptors and Vipers swarmed around it in a dizzying display. Plumes of exploding ships glowed on the hull as it passed by. The forward guns of the Battlestar blasted away at the Baseship, their main objective being to intercept the oncoming heavy missiles being fired at the Battlestar but occasionally a stray shot made it onto the Baseship's hull.

Two thousand Kilometers!

The other Baseships tried to come to the aid of the Baseship that had become the focus of attention for Hermes. Missiles and Raiders rained down on the Battlestar but the dense defensive batteries proved difficult to penetrate.

One thousand kilometers!

A hit on the starboard Hangar Pod scarred the lettering that read HERMES BS-58 but the Battlestar continued on relentlessly. The armoured seal of the number seven missile tube located between the forward guns in the 'mouth' of the Battlestar swiveled open to reveal the large missile inside. This was a particularly vulnerable moment for the Hermes since a direct hit could detonate the missile inside the tube and destroy the Battlestar.

Eight hundred kilometers!

By now, radiological alarms would have been going haywire on the Baseship.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Bowman watched as the distance between the two ships continued to count down. If the life support systems in the CIC failed at that moment no one would have noticed since none of them seemed to be breathing.

Six hundred kilometers! Five hundred and ninety! Five eighty! Five sixty!

Only now did anyone truly realize the speed at which the Hermes was hurtling towards its target. The distance meter seemed to be spinning wildly as the numbers counted down faster than most of them could keep track.

Five fifty! Five fourty!

"Wait for it!" said Bowman who lifted his right hand.

Five thirty! Five twenty! Five ten! Five hundred thousand kilometers!

"Fire!" he screamed at the top of his voice while dropping his hand. "Hard to starboard!"

* * *

The missile burst from its launch tube and like a bright blue sword it stabbed out towards its target. The Hermes suddenly banked hard to the right with such force that many aboard the ship fell over. The sudden turn was made all the more sharp by the reduction in power to the three starboard engines which meant that the port engines were now providing additional yaw.

The Cylon Raiders broke off their attack on the Hermes and scrambled to intercept the missile but to no avail. The heavy nuclear weapon struck just above the central axis of the ship with a force equivalent to sixty megatons. The flash engulfed the Baseship and the nearest Raiders which simply vanished in the awe inspiring sight.

Hermes continued to pull away quickly from the Baseship as it basked momentarily in artificial sunlight. The flash subsided to reveal an enormous gaping hole in the middle of the Baseship, the charred biomechanical hull continuing to glow hot from the detonation. Secondary explosions from the ordinance aboard the Baseship continued to explode sending shards of debris in all directions. Finally the hull collapsed in on itself and the Baseship began to break apart. It was dead.

Hermes had not escaped the close blast unscathed however. Some debris had impacted against its hull and ricocheted off but fortunately this did little except further scratch the scarred shell of the Battlestar. Having broken through the Cylon line the air wing of the Hermes disengaged from battle to regroup with its mothership.

The Cylons too were regrouping and both sides prepared for what was effectively round two.


	39. Chapter 39

THE SERENA VALLEY  
THE NORTHERN TERRITORIES  
CYLON OCCUPIED SCORPIA

Compared to the first supply run the convoy had undertaken to the stadium the second one had descended into chaos. Distances between the trucks were almost always increasing as the drivers tried to get passed obstacles as quickly as they could without thinking of the vehicle behind them. They had got themselves into the mindset of just getting their own truck to the stadium and had all but forgotten about those behind them. On more than one occasion a trailing vehicle lost sight of the one ahead of it forcing the bulk of the convoy to ground to a halt while they waited for them to catch up. This left them extremely vulnerable and nerves amongst the drivers and Marines were fraying.

Adrastos and Rory Blake's vehicle stayed at the front of the convoy for the second time. They had made a good effort at allowing enough time for the following vehicle stay behind them but the real problems were being encountered with those in the middle of the convoy. The front of the line of trucks had just emerged from Pikeston for the third time that day when the driver behind them flashed his lights to indicate they needed to slow down to let the others catch up.

"Oh what the Frak!" bellowed Rory as he saw the flashing lights in his mirror. He began to apply the brake and thus slow them down once more. The truck behind them continued to flash its lights indicating they were still leaving the trailing vehicles behind. All that was left to do now was to stop once more.

"Stay here" said Adrastos to Rory. "If anything happens get going without me."

"Where are you going?" asked Rory as Adrastos opened the passenger side door and leaped down from the cab. With his rifle in hand he ran passed the second and third vehicles to check on the ones behind them. It was immediately obvious why the convoy had come to a halt this time. The forth truck along had cut a corner too early and the trailer had struck a parked car. Instead of trying to correct his mistake the driver simply applied the throttle and dragged the car out onto the road before it slid away from the truck and began obstructing the road.

Adrastos was furious at the apparent incompetence of the driver but had little time to reprimand him. He had to get the convoy moving again and right now the car was blocking the road. He thought the fifth truck could perhaps nudge it out of the way but the chances of debris bursting the tires and thus forcing them to abandon it and its supplies here was too great.

He held up his hand to tell the driver of the fifth truck to stay where he was while he ran to the car. Being dragged by the trailer had caused only cosmetic damage and the wheels were all intact. He smashed the driver's side window with the butt of his rifle and reached in for the parking brake. He forced the handle down before embedding his shoulder into the A-pillar of the car and pushed it out of the way using the steering wheel to guide it. Once it was clear the driver of the fifth truck sounded his horn in acknowledgment and began to move once again.

As quickly as he could Adrastos began running back towards Rory's waiting truck at the front. He pulled open the door and in a burst of energy he lifted himself up into the high cab in one swift move. He slammed the door shut and they waited for the vehicle behind to signal that they were ready to continue. The lights on the vehicle behind them flashed once more and Rory threw his right foot down on the throttle. The truck hissed and roared as it began to surge forward.

They made it out of Pikeston and were back on the country roads that led away from the small rural town. The trucks thundered their way along the relatively empty roads, save for a few abandoned cars dotted here and there. Before long they were out of the forested area surrounding Pikeston and heading along a road that ran through open wheat fields.

Adrastos took out his map and checked the route ahead. Although he had viewed it enough times to have it burned into his memory he couldn't afford to make any mistakes at this point and so he looked over it once more to check that everything was right. They were about five miles north of the stadium by now and this road almost took them right to it. They just had to remember where to turn off.

His head suddenly shot up as his ears detected a strange whooshing sound. Before he could even begin to understand what was going on his ears popped loudly and he became deaf. The cabin filled with smoke that was pouring out of a hole that had appeared in Rory's door. Rory himself was slumped motionless over the steering wheel; the features of his face had gone replaced by a twisted mix of charred flesh and blood.

Adrastos' mind couldn't comprehend what was happening around him due to the speed of the events as they were taking place coupled with his sudden deafness, a result of the mortar round that had struck near the vehicle. It was made worse by the snaking of the now out of control truck. With each swerve it began to travel further and further across the road until finally it ran out of tarmac. The truck ploughed through the wire fence dividing the wheat field from the road and charged onwards without stopping leaving a long trail of destruction through the golden brown field. After traveling over two hundred yards the engine cut out from a fire that was consuming the engine bay and the truck ground to a halt.

Adrastos couldn't breathe in the cabin that was now filled with thick black smoke. In the confusion over what was happening Adrastos tried to shake Rory to waken him but the dead body just stayed slumped over the steering wheel. The thick smoke finally forced Adrastos out of the cabin. He fell from the high cab and landed on his shoulder between the short stalks of wheat.

Adrastos tried to get to his feet but found it extremely difficult due to his breathlessness and the disorientation he was experiencing from his sudden deafness. Using the truck and trailer to help guide him he slowly made his way to the rear of the vehicle. What he saw horrified him.

The truck immediately behind them in the convoy was on its side and he was looking at its roof. Fire was billowing from the engine bay following a direct hit from a mortar. He saw the door suddenly lift open and a human being clambering out. Flames licked and burned his body and if Adrastos could hear then his eardrums would be filled with the piercing screams coming from a man on fire. Suddenly the burning man's chest seemed to spurt open as bullets from a rapid firing gun ripped through his chest. His now dead body fell onto the road and continued to burn.

One by the one the trucks roared passed as their drivers made a hell bent charge away from the carnage. Bullets continued to riddle the vehicles and many of them began hissing steam from damaged cooling systems. The Cylons were nowhere to be seen during the course of the ambush. They remained well hidden firing sporadically at the trucks as they passed through. An occasional mortar landed near the roadside but fortunately no other trucks took a direct hit.

Within seconds the attack was over and the remaining trucks had escaped. Two trucks from the convoy had been destroyed and except for Adrastos their occupants had all been killed. The cabin with Rory's body inside was now engulfed by flames that twisted and turned as they rose into the air.

Adrastos fell to his knees and began to sob bitterly. It had all happened so fast and he could not compose himself properly. His mind, still dazed from the exploding mortar and subsequent crash through the field, tried to find logic in what was happening. _Maybe it was a dream?_ That certainly wasn't the case and he knew it. He slumped up against the wheels of the trailer and just sat there. He tried to recover his military training from the back of his mind but it just wouldn't come to him. His ability to process information was significantly tarnished.

Still deaf, he failed to hear the sound of someone walking slowly through the stalks of wheat towards him. It was only as the person was within a few feet of him that he noticed her in his peripheral vision and his eyes lifted up to land upon the healthy looking face of D'Anna Biers.

"What?" he gasped under his smoke filled breath. "Am I dead?" That was the only logical explanation for what he saw before him. Although he couldn't hear her speaking he read her lips as she uttered with a smile, "No."

Another figure appeared behind her. It was tall and had a shiny surface. As he focused his eyes further on it he noticed the distinctive red light that is the electronic eye of a Cylon Centurion. It suddenly became all so clear to him. D'Anna was a Cylon and she had fooled them all. In this moment of clarity he wondered how they - how _he_ - couldn't have realized it sooner but the truth was no one aboard Hermes had any real reason to doubt her or her story.

But none of that mattered now.

D'Anna turned to the side and nodded at the Centurion. The lanky metal body of the Cylon stepped forward and raised its hands towards Adrastos. Its sharp talons retracted and two pairs of guns moved forward aimed at the Marine Lieutenant from Virgon.

This is it!

He had never really known if he had believed in the Gods but as he sat there waiting to die he found solace in the idea that his family walked among them and soon he would be joining them. One way or the other his suffering would soon be over and therefore whether it was true or not didn't really matter. He stared firmly at D'Anna and showed no fear in his eyes as he waited for her to give the order that would end his life.

* * *

UNIVERSITY OF SCORPIA SCHOOL OF ATHLETICS AND SPORT

The heavily damaged convoy of trucks thundered through the gates of the stadium and out onto the playing field where the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis was waiting for their cargoes to be loaded onboard so they could leave the Cylon occupied colony. By the time the convoy had reached the stadium another two trucks had been lost from their ranks due to mechanical failure as a result of enemy fire. This left only eleven trucks from the original fifteen. As per their orders the occupants of these vehicles had to be left behind and only the most grizzly of minds dared to imagine what was to become of them when the Cylons eventually found them. While most of the trucks managed to come to a halt quite safely one had been forced to crash into the spectator stands in order to stop itself since its brake lines had been severed by enemy bullets.

Dytto emerged from inside the cargo hold and locked on at the sight of the damaged trucks as they arrived. Nearly every one of them had been damaged and their occupants wounded. As one of the civilian aids who had arrived aboard the Alexis opened the cabin of the eighth truck he found that both the driver and the Marine were dead. The driver had apparently succumbed to loss of blood from two abdominal wounds and died just moments after stopping his vehicle.

Dytto wasted no time in organizing his team. Although he truly hated himself for having to give yet another order to leave the dead he did it without hesitation in order to imprint the notion on those under him that it was the right thing to do. He fought through his own emotions and became the very heart and soul of the ground unit as they raced to load up the supplies that had arrived. Whenever he saw someone crying over a dead comrade he would smack them back to their senses and tell them, "What do you think he would say if he could see you like this now? He'd probably call you a stupid frakwood now move!" It was not meant to be a callous gesture. He truly believed that every one of those who had been killed would want the mission to succeed and he had no intention in letting their deaths be in vain.

It was this side of Dytto that Bowman had recognized very early on even through all the bile and hatred the two men had for each other. Bowman knew that while Dytto wasn't quite ready to have his own ship just yet he was an outstanding Executive Officer to have in the field. It was for that reason that Bowman had kept him on for as long as he did when many others would have simply had him put off the Hermes.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Chloe Burmeister's arm ached after she had fallen from her chair during the nuclear attack on the Baseship. A large piece of debris had struck the hull near the CIC which threw her and several others to the floor. She had the added misfortune of landing on her left arm which had still not healed from the injuries she had inflicted upon herself a few days earlier. It throbbed painfully as Commander Bowman helped her up off the floor.

"Are you ok Captain?" he asked as he lowered her back into her chair.

"Yes…yes sir" she replied.

"Good. Now I need a SITREP on what the enemy fleet is doing."

"A-Aye sir!" she replied as she turned back to her console which was still receiving a mix of information from the Hermes' own sensors and the Raptors outside in an effort to counteract the Cylon's jamming which now had the added advantage of exploding nuclear ordinance from the destroyed Baseship. The resulting EMP blasts only served to further confuse DRADIS as well as several of the other scanners they were relying upon. It took her a few moments to correlate the information but soon she had an idea of what was going on outside in space. "Sir, the remaining Baseships are still holding back; they probably don't know that we haven't got any nukes left. They seem to have split into two groups and are starting to circle around us. Their Raiders are establishing a tougher defensive perimeter around them."

"They won't be so cocky this time. It's just like punching the school bully on the nose. What about our pilots?"

She turned to face him in order to tell him what she knew. "We've lost twelve Vipers and two Raptors. Only 'Stinger' and 'Walleye' managed to get back aboard after they were hit."

"Aright!" sighed Bowman who quickly took in a deep cleansing breath in order to continue. "Our priorities are to keep the Cylons occupied long enough for the Alexis to load up and get away. With that in mind let's start running and try and put off another fight as long as we can. Helm; take us to a heading of one-one-zero carom two-zero. Have our air wing take flanking positions. Gunners are to hold their fire until I give the word."

* * *

With its air wing taking up positions on either side of the Battlestar the Hermes began to run parallel to Scorpia's orbit. The Baseships and their Raiders were now behind them and continued to close in at sublight speeds. The more advanced engines of the Cylon ships meant that they were slowly but surely beginning to catch up.

The Raptors continued to scan the enemy forces with all the equipment at their disposal. Despite the interference they came to the conclusion that in reality they were only facing two actual Baseships. The others were all 'Spooks' intended to divert fire away from the actual ships. Bowman quickly surmised that either the Cylon fleet was quite thinly dispersed within the colonies or that they didn't really see Hermes as a threat and were still treating them quite lightly.

Either way, by running rather than fighting the Hermes was buying itself another twelve or so minutes before the Cylons could overtake them and attack. Only the Gods knew if that was truly enough time.

* * *

COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS  
UNIVERSITY OF SCORPIA SCHOOL OF ATHLETICS AND SPORT

Dytto clambered back into his pilot's seat where 'Show-Off' was still going through the pre-flight checklist. Not being familiar with the list on a spacecraft this size meant that what should have taken 'Show-Off' the best part of half an hour, thanks largely to the heavy automation of the systems, almost a full hour later they were still not complete.

"How are we looking?" asked Dytto as he buckled himself back in.

"Uh, so far everything looks ok" replied 'Show-Off' not too convincingly.

"What about the red lights we had on the vertical thrusters?"

"Their still glowing but the manual says they are within tolerances. We should be able to get airborne with them" said 'Show-Off', the worry in his voice clear to all who could hear it.

"Well we don't have to get too high" said Dytto. "Just high enough to hit our FTL."

As he put his headset back on it suddenly crackled into life with a transmission over the internal communications system. "Colonel, this is Callisto! My men and the last of the supplies are being loaded up now. Just ninety seconds."

Dytto squeezed the transmit button on his own headset and said, "Roger that." He then turned to face 'Show-Off'. "Get ready to send the signal."

"Aye sir!" replied 'Show-Off' who then accessed the wireless system and selected a predetermined channel. Using an old style monotone signal 'Show-Off' tapped a coded message that was suddenly beamed into space. Once decoded the message would read 'winged boots' in reference to the feathery footwear attributed to the God Hermes.

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

Durand heard the monotone signal coming in over the wireless channel they had reserved specifically for this purpose. It was an old channel that no one ever used anymore since it wasn't powerful enough to carry voice messages but could transmit the crackly noise from the electric signal. As each letter beeped out Durand wrote it down on a spare page in his communication officer's log book. He was under orders not to announce it until he had received every single letter in the correct order so that they could be sure who was sending it. If the Alexis had been compromised then Dytto would have transmitted it in the wrong order.

"Winged boots!" he cried at the top of his lungs as he looked at the two words scribbled right across the page.

"Send back the confirmation. Combat landings!" called out Bowman at once. "Enter in the coordinates for the rendezvous and spool the FTL!" He then turned away and uttered under his breath, "Good job Colonel."

Durand began to transmit the confirmation code back on the same wireless channel. The monotone signal beeped out the letters H…E…R…M…I…O…N…E – the female variation of the name Hermes.

* * *

Like a swarm of flies the air wing raced to board the Battlestar. Fifty six Vipers and ten Raptors began to squeeze inside the two Hangar Pods, each pilot scrambling for every inch of free space on the two magnetized decks in order to put their craft down safely.

For Blue Team it was their second combat landing in under an hour and on 'Boxer' and 'Griffon's Vipers it showed as their landing struts collapsed upon hitting the deck. 'Boxer's number three strut snapped in two and the rear of his Viper fell onto its right side. 'Griffon' found himself thrown forwards towards his cockpit instrument panel as his nose strut unintentionally retracted back into the fuselage following a hydraulic failure. Both pilots were unharmed however and they simply had to wait for the rest of the air wing to silently land around them.

The Cylons saw what was happening and ejected seven heavy nuclear ship-to-ship missiles towards the Hermes in a last ditch effort to catch the Battlestar. Their motors weren't active yet in order to preserve fuel for when they made their final attack during which they would be violently maneuvering in order to avoid being destroyed by the defensive guns that bristle along the Hermes and were still quite active with only handful having been destroyed or damaged during the battle.

Having been ejected at the Baseship's top sublight speed the missiles traveled faster than their launch platforms sine there was no air resistance in the vacuum of space to slow them down. They would reach Hermes in just two and a half minutes.

The last few Vipers made it onto the deck and the FTL was spooling as quickly as the 'snipes' in the engine room were willing to let it. They were concerned about what the 'FTL hiccup' had done to the system but there was no time for a proper inspection and they just had to rely on the durability of their FTL drive.

Ninety seconds away and the missile motors kicked in. Spewing blue flame they began to surge forwards towards the Battlestar twisting and turning as they went in an effort to throw off the gunners who would be trying to shoot them down. Like a nest of angry Snakes they slithered through space before beginning their death charge down onto the Battlestar.

But they were too late. In a brilliant flash the Hermes disappeared as its Faster-Than-Light drive transported it to a new location almost ten light years away from Scorpia. The missiles passed harmlessly through the empty space left by the Hermes and having lost their targets their warheads deactivated in order to wait for retrieval in order to be used again.

* * *

COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS  
UNIVERSITY OF SCORPIA SCHOOL OF ATHLETICS AND SPORT

"That's it, we're closed up! Take off now!"

Callisto's voice crackled in Dytto's headset as he shouted with such force that it expelled all the air in his lungs.

"Roger!" replied Dytto who then turned to 'Show-Off' who was still writing down the code he was receiving. Once he was done he held it up for Dytto to read it. "Hermione! Are you sure?"

"Yes sir!" said 'Show-Off' firmly.

"Alright, we're out of here" said Dytto. "Powering up vertical thrusters. Begin atmospheric compensation checks."

"Yes sir" replied 'Show-Off'. "Atmosphere; go for flight."

Dytto applied power to the vertical thrusters. They howled loudly as they spat out blue flame from underneath the ventral hull of the Alexis and it slowly began to lift up off the ground. Ten feet. Twenty feet. The Alexis continued to rise upwards until its landing struts were now high above the stadium.

In a clasp of thunder and a brilliant flash the Alexis made its FTL jump and was gone. The stadium below was left with holes and scorch marks in the ground from where the Alexis had landed. Eleven trucks littered the running track that ran the circumference of the field, some of which were still spewing white steam from their engines.

Scattered here and there were the twelve bodies of those who had been killed in the ambush as well as one young civilian who had died in a tragic accident while unloading the vehicles.

This had been the cost of the operation.

* * *

The Alexis reappeared in an empty part of space close, astronomically speaking, to a bright White Dwarf star. The shaking that had come from the vertical thrusters that had lifted the Alexis off the surface of Scorpia was gone replaced by the calmness that a vessel experiences when traveling in the vacuum of space.

Dytto had only one question on his mind as he looked out into the eternal night sky; where was Hermes? 'Show-Off' began scanning the area with the navigational DRADIS. It swept through the entire sphere of its detection range several times before a rather large object appeared at its extreme range.

"Is that them?" he asked 'Show-Off' with almost baited breath.

'Show-Off' didn't answer. Instead the two of them sat there staring at the large blob on the screen that was getting closer and closer. Their silence was interrupted by the wireless system crackling into life.

"Hermes to Alexis, Hermes to Alexis please respond!"

* * *

BATTLESTAR HERMES COMBAT INFORMATION CENTRE

"Hermes, this is Alexis. Mission complete!"

Dytto's voice caused an eruption of cheers and celebration. Some laughed. Some cried. Some sat in solemn silence for those they knew they had been lost during the mission while others didn't know how to respond.

Bowman patted Burmeister on the shoulder and as she looked up at him he said to her, "We did it Captain. Good job."

Chloe didn't know what to say. Instead she looked back at her screen which had only one DRADIS contact displayed on it. Above the object were the words COLONIAL HEAVY LINER ALEXIS.

* * *

Basking in the sunlight from the White Dwarf star the Battlestar Hermes and the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis positioned themselves alongside one another. Both crews had a lot to be proud of. They were both ships fighting in a war but not a war of conquest. They were fighting a war where the stakes were significantly higher. They were fighting for the very survival of humanity. Today was just one victory and there was still a long way to go.


	40. Chapter 40 Epilogue

BATTLESTAR HERMES BOWMAN'S OFFICE  
33 DAYS SINCE THE DESTRUCTION OF THE COLONIES

Colonel Caleb Dytto stood before Commander Artimus Bowman who sat on the opposite side of his desk going over the damage report that the Colonel had brought to him. Dytto didn't know why Bowman had insisted that he bring the report. Now that the operation was over he no longer had a set role aboard the Battlestar. Officially, Major Alex 'Griffon' Adonia was still the XO and Dytto was still relieved from duties.

It took Bowman fifteen minutes to skim through the report. There was no need for him to read the details only what was in need of repair and how the relevant department proposed to do it. Dytto began to grow impatient as he waited. He was holding back the urge to throw himself across the desk and demand Bowman to say something. Dytto could handle a blazing argument but he couldn't stand to be made to stand there in silence.

Finally, Bowman put the report down on the desk and looked at him. For another minute or so Bowman didn't say anything. He just stared at the Colonel who had been almost a constant thorn in his side for over a year since he first stepped aboard the Battlestar Hermes.

"I asked you the other day; what am I going to do with you?" said Bowman. Dytto remained silent as he allowed Bowman to lead. The Colonel half expected to end this conversation with Bowman making his removal permanent. "Here's the thing Caleb, I am no longer the Commander of a Battlestar. Hermes is more than that now. We are in effect our own colony. We have military and civilians aboard and I need to find some balance to ensure that we survive what lies ahead of us. I can no longer tolerate someone who questions my orders in front of the crew and undermines my authority. I need an XO who will stand by my side and present a united front to those who serve on this ship because the chain of command is all we have left."

Dytto braced himself for what he knew was coming. He was going to be in 'The Slum' by the end of the day.

Bowman continued, "That said I also need someone who is not afraid to tell me I'm wrong and to keep me on my toes. Now, Major Adonia has expressed his desire to return to his role as CAG and I have agreed. I want _you_ back in the CIC as XO. Now I know that you and I will never truly see eye-to-eye. There's just too much bad blood between us and I don't expect that to ever change so here's the deal I am offering; when you and I are alone and in this room you can say to me whatever you like. I give you my word I will listen and seriously consider any recommendations you make. But when we are out of this room and in front of the crew my word is scripture and you will follow it to the letter. That's the deal."

Bowman stood up from behind his desk and offered Dytto his hand. Dytto was dumbfounded. He didn't know how to respond. It took him a few moments before he finally nodded and accepted Bowman's hand.

"You have a deal…_sir_!"

"Excellent" said Bowman gratefully. "Carry on your duties Colonel."

Bowman saluted and Dytto acknowledged the gesture before turning and walking out of the room. Neither of them knew what this deal between the two of them meant or how long it would last but both men were genuine in their acceptance of the terms of this new arrangement.

Bowman slumped back into his seat. His eyes fell upon the empty space where the photo of his wife Brooke once sat. When he had learned of the bombing of the Twelve Colonies he had put the picture in his top drawer in an effort to help him forget her but the empty space had the opposite effect and served to remind him what he had lost.

He reached into the drawer and took out the photograph. As he held it in his hands he realized that the time in Delphi City on Caprica was coming up to 4:30pm. Whenever he was home and not out in the fleet they would both be settling down for dinner at around this time and discussing the events of their day. Although that life was far behind him now he nevertheless looked into her eyes and asked, "So baby, how was _your_ day?"

* * *

The Battlestar Hermes seemed to glide effortlessly through space as it continued to run from the Cylons. Its hull was now more scarred than ever from the fighting it had undertaken but it remained intact and the ship still had an air of strength about it. The story of the Hermes was far from over but as the five thousand people who called the ship home settled in for another day they allowed themselves a precious few moments to catch their breath and ponder the next move.

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

THE COLONY

CYLON SPACEBORNE HOMEWORLD

John Cavil listened to the report presented to him by a fellow Number One about the final results of the battle above Scorpia. While he was pleased with the outcome even he had to admit that Hermes had performed better than he had expected. It made little impact on his belief in his plan for Hermes however. The Battlestar was still playing the part the Cylon had laid out for it and he knew that in this instance patience would be a virtue.

"The sixes are particularly concerned about our losses" explained the Number One presenting the report.

"Of course they are. That's the way they were programmed to be. Need we keep reminding them that not a single Cylon has died during this whole thing? Even as we speak our compatriots are downloading into new bodies and no harm done. That's what makes us better than humans. That's what makes us machines."

"Of course brother, but we need to keep them on our side. We should be more careful about how we proceed to the next phase."

"Speaking of which, how is our prisoner doing?"

"See for yourself."

The two Number One model Cylons waked the corridors of the Colony to the medical section where the Simon models were busy with their patient. John Cavil looked down at the man's unconscious face as he lay on the table while being cared for by the Fours.

Cavil leaned down and said, "I never thought we'd get this lucky." The croaky voice caused the man to stir and his eyes opened. Lieutenant Nester Adrastos looked up through tired eyes at the face of a man he knew as the Chief Medical Officer of the Battlestar Hermes – James Deveroux. Adrastos tried to move but the sedatives he had been given made that impossible. The effort alone caused him to fall back asleep.

Cavil leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Rest now Lieutenant. You've earned it. And you still have a lot to do for us."

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

**

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE**

**Well, this is the end of "Battlestar Hermes: Salvage". For those of you who have stuck with it and are reading this right now you have my thanks and I hope that my poor grammar hasn't spoiled your enjoyment of the story that I have been trying to tell.**

**There are two people I would like to make special mention of; 'Wes Imlay' and 'CKLammar'. Wes has been a constant source of support throughout this story while CKLammar has become my unofficial 'Quality Control Officer' to keep me on my toes. **

**During the course of writing the story I've had several questions about it put forth to me. With that in mind I have decided that on Sunday 2****nd**** May 2010 I will add another a chapter with a list of the questions that I have had put to me. If you have any questions that you wish to ask me please put them either in a review or a message and I will answer them for you in the Q&A chapter. **

**Also Hermes has numerous pages on ****.com**** which is dedicated to BSG Fan Fiction.**

**If you enjoyed "Battlestar Hermes: Salvage" then please keep a look out for the follow up story "Battlestar Hermes: Faststar" which will be starting very soon.**

**Once again you have my thanks.**

**Good night and God(s) bless.**

**- Tony**


	41. Timeline

Here is a timeline of the events that occur throughout "Battlestar Hermes: Salvage" alongside the relevant episode of the series for reference.

**DSF = Days Since The Fall**

* * *

**0 -****Battlestar Galactica**** - **_**"Miniseries"**_

**6 DSF - BSG S01E01 ****- **_**"33"**_

**7 DSF**** - **The Battlestar Pegasus encounters fifteen civilian ships including the Scylla. The crew of the Pegasus strips the ships for parts as well as executes anyone who interferes. Following the encounter the fifteen ships scatter into groups of three hoping that this will mean at least some of them will survive.

**10 DSF -****BSG S01E02**_**- "Water**_**"**

The Battlestar Hermes encounters three civilian ships - Medea, Scylla and Simonides. These are the survivors of the fleet ransacked by the crew of the Pegasus. They cram aboard the Hermes into the barrack section that becomes known as 'The Slum'. (**Battlestar Hermes: Memories of Scylla**)

**12 DSF - BSG S01E03**** - "**_**Bastille Day**_**"**

**14 DSF - BSG S01E04 - ****"**_**Act of Contrition**_**"**

**15 DSF - BSG S01E04 - ****"**_**You Can't Go Home Again**_**"**

**17 DSF - BSG S01E05 - ****"**_**Litmus**_**"**

A Raptor from the Hermes discovers the wreckage of the Transport Ship Hellenic Traveler. A salvage mission is only able to recover one cargo container from the ship before it is destroyed by Cylon 'Bloodsuckers'. Inside the box they discover the body of a young woman who they later identify as being a Cylon (Number Six).

**19 DSF**** - **After helping out on the Hangar Deck, Melissa Saunders agrees to start traing to become a Raptor ECMO to help bolster the available air crew.

**23 DSF**- With supplies getting ever more desperate Bowman decides to return to the Colonies in search of supplies. During the initial briefing of the operation the Hermes is attacked by a pair of Cylon 'Bloodsuckers'.

**24 DSF - BSG S01E05 - ****"**_**Six Degrees of Separation**_**"**

Lieutenant Chloe Burmeister is promoted to Captain. Little does Bowman know that in the past few days she has begun self harming and is on the road to having a breakdown.

**25 DSF**** - ****BSG S01E6**** - "**_**Flesh and Bone**_**"**

A Raptor from Hermes discovers Hangar Pod from a destroyed Battlestar floating freely through space. Inspection of the pod leads them to conclude that the fuel cells may still be intact. During an attempt to access this fuel an explosion kills three people and destroys a Raptor. Bowman is deeply troubled by the loss and blames himself. Colonel Dytto confronts him in his office leaving Bowman no alternative but to relieve him of command. The Hermes CAG, Major Adonia, becomes Acting-XO. 'Stinger' is chosen to replace him.

**27 DSF**** - **The Hermes reaches The Erebus Belt and a Raptor crewed with Captain Burmeister and 'Magma' heads to Scorpia on a scouting mission. They land at the Caprimart Distribution Centre in the Serena Valley. There they discover a Cylon Number Three posing as D'Anna Biers, a journalist turned resistance fighter. She is brought back aboard the Hermes for questioning where she reveals that the Cylons have evolved into Humanoid form as part of a disinformation exercise and to spread paranoia.

**28 DSF - BSG S01E07 ****-**_**"Tigh Me Up, Tigh Me Down"**_

**30 DSF – **Lieutenant Allenforth's Viper collides witha Cylon Raider in the Erebus Belt. During the rescue effort the crew unknowingly stumbles upon the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis resting on a planetoid. Bowman orders a salvage operation and chooses Dytto to lead it.

**31 DSF – **Chloe Burmeister discovers that the woman responsible for killing the passengers aboard the Colonial Heavy Liner Alexis is identical to the body they brought back from the Hellenic Traveler. They now know that both are Cylons.

**32 DSF – **With the Alexis at their disposal Burmeister formulates a new plan to take the supplies from the Caprimart centre in one swift action. After authorizing the plan the orders go out and the briefings begin. Adrastos and D'Anna Biers mount a personal reconnaissance mission to the University of Scorpia stadium. D'Anna is subsequently killed by a damaged Centurion and downloads into a new body.

**33 DSF** – The crew of the Hermes launch their operation to capture the supplies from the Caprimart Distribution Centre. During the course of the operation Adrastos is captured as part of Cavil's plan for the Battlestar. Both Hermes and Alexis escape to a nearby star system with the supplies they have acquired.

Colonel Dytto is reinstated as XO.

**36 DSF - BSG S01E08**** - **_**"The Hand of God"**_


	42. Coming Soon

**COMING SOON**

**BATTLESTAR HERMES: FASTSTAR**

_Colonial Faststar_ - A fast attack craft operated by the Colonial Fleet whose primary mission is to launch hit-and-run attacks against Cylon Baseships in an effort to weaken their defences.

Artimus Bowman's hand trembled as he tried to hold the handset to his ear. The woman's voice over the wireless emanated from the Faststar that was quickly approaching the Battlestar Hermes. It was a voice from a woman whom he believed to have been dead for over six years – Galit Malka. Was it a Cylon trick? He didn't know anything for sure but he had to find out for himself.

Malka and the crew of her Faststar offer to solve the problem of weapons aboard the Hermes by revealing the location of a secret base established by the Colonial Ministry of Intelligence at the end of the First Cylon War. But what is she keeping from Bowman and his crew? Just what exactly is at this base that Malka doesn't want the crew of the Hermes to know?

Is she a bigger threat to them than the Cylons?

At the same time a crime lord emerges within 'The Slum' and is using terror to keep the population under his control while Lieutenant Nester Adrastos finds himself being interrogated by a sadistic Doral aboard a Cylon Baseship.


End file.
